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UBRAR* 

UNIVERSITY   OF  CALIFORNIA) 
DAVIS 


BOOKS  BY 

(Egbert 

(MARY  N.  MURFREE.) 


IN  THE  TENNESSEE   MOUNTAINS.         Short  Sto- 
ries.    i6mo,  $1.23. 

DOWN   THE   RAVINE.     A  Story  for  Young  People. 
Illustrated.     i6mo,  $1.00. 

THE  PROPHET  OF  THE  GREAT  SMOKY  MOUN- 
TAINS.    A  Novel.     i6mo,  $1.25. 

IN  THE  CLOUDS.     A  Novel.     i6mo,  $1.25. 


HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  CO. 

BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK. 


IN  THE  CLOUDS 


BY 


CHARLES   EGBERT  CRADDOCK 

AUTHOR   OF   "IN    THE    TENNESSEE   MOUNTAINS,"    "  DOWN    THE    RAVINE,'' 
"  THE  PROPHET  OF  THE  GREAT  SMOKY  MOUNTAINS,"  ETC. 


BOSTON  AND   NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,   MIFFLIN   AND   COMPANY 


1887 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNT/ 
DAVIS 


Copyright,  1886, 
BY  MARY  N.  MURFREE. 


All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge: 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  II.  0.  Houghton  &  Co. 


IN   THE   CLOUDS. 


i. 

IN  the  semblance  of  the  cumulus-cloud  from  which  it 
takes  its  name,  charged  with  the  portent  of  the  storm, 
the  massive  peak  of  Thunderhead  towers  preeminent 
among  the  summits  of  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains, 
unique,  impressive,  most  subtly  significant. 

What  strange  attraction  of  the  earth  laid  hold  on  this 
vagrant  cloud-form  ?  What  unexplained  permanence  of 
destiny  solidified  it  and  fixed  it  forever  in  the  founda- 
tions of  the  range  ? 

Kindred  thunderheads  of  the  air  lift  above  the  hori- 
zon, lure,  loiter,  lean  on  its  shoulder  with  similitudes 
and  contrasts.  Then  with  all  the  buoyant  liberties  of 
cloudage  they  rise,  —  rise  ! 

Alas  !  the  earth  clasps  its  knees  ;  the  mountains  twine 
their  arms  about  it ;  hoarded  ores  of  specious  values 
weigh  it  down.  It  cannot  soar!  Only  the  cumbrous 
image  of  an  ethereal  thing !  Only  the  ineffective  wish 
vainly  fashioned  like  the  winged  aspiration ! 

It  may  have  said  naught  of  this  to  Ben  Doaks,  but  it 
exerted  strenuous  fascinations  on  the  sense  alert  to  them. 
Always  he  turned  his  eyes  toward  Thunderhead,  as  he 
came  and  went  among  his  cattle  on  the  neighboring 
heights  of  Piomingo  Bald,  a  few  miles  distant  to  the 
northeast.  Often  he  left  the  herder's  cabin  in  the  woods 
below,  and  sat  for  hours  on  a  rock  on  the  summit,  smok- 
ing his  pipe  and  idly  watching  the  varying  aspects  of  the 
great  peak.  Sometimes  it  was  purple  against  the  azure 
heavens  ;  or  gray  and  sharp  of  outline  on  faint  green 


2  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

spaces  of  the  sky;  or  misty,  immaterial,  beset  with 
clouds,  as  if  the  clans  had  gathered  to  claim  the  change- 
ling. 

"  'Pears-like  ter  me  ez  I  could  n't  herd  cattle  along  of 
a  mo'  low-sperited,  say-nuthin'  critter  'n  ye  be,  Ben,"  his 
partner  remarked  one  day,  sauntering  up  the  slope  and 
joining  him  on  the  summit.  "Ye  jes'  set  up  hyar  on  the 
bald  an'  gape  at  Thunderhead  like  ez  ef  ye  war  bereft. 
Now,  down  in  the  cove  ye  always  air  toler'ble  good  com- 
pany,  —  nimble-tongued  ez  ennybody." 

He  thrust  his  cob-pipe  into  his  mouth  and  pulled  away 
silently  at  it,  gazing  at  the  smoke  as  it  curled  up  with 
delicate  sinuosity  and  transparently  blue. 

Ben  Doaks  did  not  reply  at  once.  There  was  no  need 
of  haste  on  Piomingo  Bald. 

"  Waal,  I  dunno  but  it  air  a  sorter  lonesome  place,  an' 
a-body  don't  feel  much  like  talkin'  no-ways,"  he  drawled 
at  last.  "  But  ye  '11  git  used  ter  it,  Mink,"  he  added,  in 
leisurely  encouragement.  "  Ye  '11  git  used  ter  it,  arter  a 
while." 

Mink  looked  down  disconsolately  at  the  vast  array  of 
mountains  below  him  on  every  side.  The  nearest  were 
all  tinged  with  a  dusky  purple,  except  for  the  occasional 
bare,  garnet-colored  stretches  of  the  u  fire-scalds,"  relics 
of  the  desolation  when  the  woods  were  burned ;  the  va- 
rying tints  were  sublimated  to  blue  in  the  distance  ; 
then  through  every  charmed  gradation  of  ethereal  azure 
the  ranges  faded  into  the  invisible  spaces  that  we  wot 
not  of.  There  was  something  strangely  overwhelming 
in  the  stupendous  expanse  of  the  landscape.  It  abashed 
the  widest  liberties  of  fancy.  Somehow  it  disconcerted 
all  past  experience,  all  previous  prejudice,  all  credence 
in  other  conditions  of  life.  The  fact  was  visibly  pre- 
sented to  the  eye  that  the  world  is  made  of  moun- 
tains. 

That  finite  quality  of  the  mind,  aptly  expressing  itself 
in  mensuration,  might  find  a  certain  relief  in  taking  note 
of  the  curious  "  bald  "  itself,  —  seeming  some  three  or 
four  hundred  bare  acres  on  the  summit.  Wild  grass  grows 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  3 

upon  its  gradual  slope  ;  clumps  of  huckleberry  bushes 
appear  here  and  there ;  occasional  ledges  of  rock  crop 
out.  A  hardy  flower  will  turn  a  smiling  face  responsive 
to  the  measured  patronage  of  the  chilly  sunshine  in  this 
rare  air.  The  solemnity  of  the  silence  is  broken  only  by 
the  occasional  tinkling  of  cow-bells  from  the  herds  of 
cattle  among  the  woods  lower  down  on  the  mountain  side. 

"  I  never  kin  git  used  ter  it,"  said  Mink,  desperately. 
"  I  never  kin  git  used  ter  hevin'  sech  dumbness  about 
me,  an'  seein'  the  time  go  so  slow.  'Pears  ter  me  some 
f ower  or  five  hunderd  year  sence  we  eat  brekf us',  —  an' 
I  ain't  hongry,  nuther." 

He  was  a  tall,  singularly  lithe  man  of  twenty-four  or 
five,  clad  in  a  suit  of  brown  jeans.  He  wore  his  coat 
closely  buttoned  over  his  blue-checked  cotton  shirt,  for 
the  August  days  are  chilly  on  Piomingo  Bald.  His 
broad-brimmed  white  wool  hat  was  thrust  back  on  his 
head,  showing  his  tousled  auburn  hair  that  hung  down 
upon  his  collar,  curling  like  a  cavalier's.  He  had  a  keen, 
clear  profile,  a  quickly  glancing,  dark  eye,  and  his  com- 
plexion was  tanned  to  a  rich  tint  that  comported  well 
with  the  out-door  suggestions  of  his  powder-horn  and 
belt  and  shot-pouch,  which  he  wore,  although  his  rifle 
was  at  the  cabin.  He  maintained  the  stolid  gravity  char- 
acteristic of  the  mountaineer,  but  there  was  a  covert 
alertness  about  him,  a  certain  sharpness  of  attention  al- 
most inimical,  and  slow  and  dawdling  as  he  was  he  gave 
the  impression  of  being  endowed  with  many  an  agile 
unclassified  mental  faculty. 

His  eyes  followed  the  flight  of  a  bird  soaring  in  great 
circles  high  above  the  "  bald,"  sometimes  balanced  mo- 
tionless in  mid-air,  —  a  pose  of  ineffable  strength  and 
buoyancy,  —  then  majestically  circling  as  before. 

"  That  thar  buzzard  'pears  ter  be  a-loungin'  around  in 
the  sky,  a-waitin'  fur  we-uns  ter  die,"  he  said,  lugubri- 
ously. 

Doaks  broke  with  an  effort  from  his  reverie,  and 
turned  his  languid  gaze  on  the  malcontent  herder. 

"  In  the  name  o'  heaven,  Mink  Lorey,"  he  said  sol- 
emnly, "  what  is  it  ye  do  like  ter  do  ?  " 


4  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

Despite  the  spark  of  irritation  in  his  eye,  he  seemed 
colorless,  especially  as  contrasted  with  his  comrade.  He 
had  a  shock  of  fair  hair  and  a  light  brown  beard ;  the 
complexion  which  is  the  complement  of  this  type  had 
freckled  in  its  exposure  to  the  sun  instead  of  tanning, 
and  added  its  original  pallor  to  the  negative  effect.  He 
had  good  features,  but  insignificant  in  their  lack  of  any 
marked  peculiarity  except  for  the  honest,  candid  look  in 
the  serious  gray  eye.  He  too  wore  a  broad  white  wool 
hat  and  a  suit  of  brown  jeans. 

Mink  gazed  at  his  companion  with  an  expression  of 
brightening  interest.  He  found  himself  and  his  own  id- 
iosyncrasies, even  when  berated,  more  agreeable  to  con- 
template than  the  mountains.  He  did  not  reply,  perhaps 
appreciating  that  no  answer  was  expected. 

"  Ye  don't  like  ter  herd  up  hyar,  an'  the  Lord  knows 
I  ain't  keerin'  ter  hev  ye.  Ye  hev  gin  me  ez  much 
trouble  ez  all  the  cattle  an'  thar  owners  besides.  When 
ye  wanted  ter  kem  so  bad,  an'  sorter  go  partners  with 
me,  I  'lowed  ye  'd  be  lively,  an'  a  toler'ble  good  critter 
ter  hev  along.  An'  ye  hev  been  ez  lonesome  an'  ez  on- 
considerate  an'  ez  ill-convenient  ez  a  weanin'  baby,"  he 
declared,  rising  to  hyberbole.  "  What  do  ye  like  ter 
do?" 

Once  more  Mink  refrained  from  reply.  He  looked 
absently  at  an  isolated  drift  of  mist,  gigantic  of  outline, 
reaching  from  the  zenith  to  the  depths  of  Piomingo  Cove, 
and  slowly  passing  down  the  valley  between  the  Great 
Smoky  and  the  sunflooded  Chilhowee  Mountain,  obscur- 
ing for  the  moment  the  red  clay  banks  of  the  Scolacutta 
River,  whose  current  seemed  a  msre  silver  thread  twin- 
ing in  and  out  of  the  landscape. 

"  Look  a-hyar  at  the  way  ye  go  on,"  said  Doaks,  warm- 
ing to  the  subject,  for  there  are  few  exercises  so  enter- 
taining as  to  preach  with  no  sense  of  participation  in  sin. 
"  Ye  went  ter  work  at  that  thar  silver  mine  in  North 
Car'liny,  an'  thar  ye  stayed  sorter  stiddy  an'  peaceful 
till  ye  seen  yer  chance.  An'  Pete  Rood,  he  kem  an' 
stayed  too,  an'  he  war  sorter  skeered  o'  the  ways,  —  not 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  5 

bein'  used  ter  minin'.  An'  then  yer  minkish  tricks  be- 
gan. Fust,  when  that  thar  feller  war  let  down  inter  the 
shaft  an'  ye  hed  a-holt  o'  the  windlass,  ye  drapped  a  few 
clods  o'  clay  in  on-  him,  an'  then  a  leetle  gravel,  an'  then 
mo'  clay.  Then  he  bellered  that  the  shaft  war  cavin'  in 
on  him,  an'  plead  an'  prayed  with  ye  ter  wind  him  up 
quick.  An'  ye  would  n't  pull.  An'  when  the  t'other 
fellers  run  thar  an'  drawed  that  man  out  he  war  weak 
enough  ter  drap." 

"  I  'member  !  "  cried  Mink,  with  a  burst  of  unregener- 
ate  laughter.  "  He  said,  '  Lemme  git  out'n  this  spindlin' 
hell  o'  a  weU  !  " 

He  sprang  up,  grotesquely  imitating  the  gesture  of  ex- 
haustion with  which  the  man  had  stepped  out  of  the 
bucket  to  firm  ground. 

"  Waal,  it  mought  hev  turned  out  a  heap  wus,"  said 
Doaks,  "  'kase  they  'lowed  down  yander  'bout  Big  Injun 
Mounting,  whar  Rood  hails  from,  ez  he  hev  got  some 
sort'n  heart-disease.  An'  a  suddint  skeer  mought  hev 
killed  him." 

"  Shucks  !  "  said  Mink,  incredulously.  He  looked  dis- 
concerted, however,  and  then  sat  down  on  the  rock  as 
before.  Ben  Doaks  went  on  :  — 

"  An'  that  war  n't  enough  fur  ye.  When  they  hed 
Rood  thar  a-pumpin'  out  water,  all  by  himself  all  night, 
nuthin'  would  do  ye  but  ye  must  hide  up  thar  in  the 
Lost-Time  mine  in  the  dark  o'  the  midnight  an'  the  rain, 
an'  explode  a  lot  o'  gunpowder,  an'  kem  a-bustin'  out  at 
him  from  the  mouth  o'  the  tunnel,  wropped  in  a  sheet  an' 
howlin'  like  a  catamount.  He  run  mighty  nigh  a  mile." 

"  Waal,"  said  Mink,  in  sturdy  argument,  "  I  ain't 
'sponsible  'kase  Peter  Rood  air  toler'ble  easy  skeered." 

"  They  never  hired  ye  ter  work  thar  no  mo',  bein'  ez 
that  war  'bout  all  the  use  ye  put  yerse'f  ter  in  the  silver 
mine  in  North  Car'liny." 

Despite  the  reproof,  Doaks  was  looking  kindly  at  him, 
for  the  wayward  Mink  had  evidently  endeared  himself 
in  some  sort  to  the  elder  herder,  who  was  weakly  con- 
scious of  not  regarding  his  enormities  with  the  aversion 
they  merited. 


G  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

The  young  man's  countenance  fell.  His  mischief  dif- 
fered from  that  of  his  namesake  in  all  the  sequelae  of  an 
accusing  conscience.  But  stay  !  What  do  we  know  of 
the  mink's  midday  meditations,  his  sober,  ex  post  facto 
regrets  ? 

"  An'  what  do  ye  do  then,  —  'kase  they  turned  ye  off  ? 
Ye  go  thar  of  a  night,  when  nobody  's  at  the  windlass, 
an'  ye  busts  it  down  an'  flings  the  bucket  an'  rope  an'  all 
down  the  shaft." 

Mink  was  embarrassed.  "  How  d'  ye  know  ?  "  he  re- 
torted, with  acrid  futility.  "  How  d'  ye  know  't  war 
me?" 

"  'Kase  it  air  fairly  kin  ter  yer  actions,  —  know  it  by 
the  family  favor,"  said  Doaks.  "Ax  ennybody  enny- 
whar  round  the  Big  Smoky  who  did  sech  an'  sech,  an' 
they  'd  all  say,  Mink.  Ye  know  the  word  they  hev  gin 
ye,  *  Mink  by  name  an'  Mink  by  natur.'  " 

Lorey  made  no  further  feint  of  denial.  He  seemed 
a  trifle  out  of  countenance.  He  glanced  over  his  shoulder 
at  the  rugged  horizontal  summit  line  of  Chilhowee,  ris- 
ing high  above  the  intervenient  mountains,  and  sharply 
imposed  upon  the  mosaic  of  delicate  tints  known  as  the 
valley  of  East  Tennessee,  which  stretches  so  far  that,  de- 
spite its  sharp  inequalities,  it  seems  to  have  the  level  mo- 
notony of  the  sea  till  Walden's  Ridge,  the  great  outpost 
of  the  Cumberland  Mountains,  meets  the  concave  sky. 

Then,  as  his  wandering  attention  returned  to  those 
sterner  heights  close  at  hand,  their  inexpressible  grav- 
ity, their  significant  solemnity,  which  he  could  not  ap- 
prehend, which  baffled  every  instinct  of  his  limited  na- 
ture, smote  upon  him. 

He  broke  out  irritably  :  — 

"  What  do  ye  jes'  set  thar  a-jowin'  at  me  fur,  Ben, 
like  a  long-tongued  woman,  'bout  what  I  done  an'  what 
I  hain't  done,  in  this  hyar  lonesome  place  whar  I  hev 
been  tolled  ter  by  you-uns  ?  1  never  begged  ter  be  lowed 
ter  herd  along  of  ye,  nohow.  When  I  kem  an'  axed  ye 
'bout'n  it,  ye  'lowed  ye  'd  be  powerful  glad.  An'  ye  said 
ez  so  many  o'  the  farmers  in  the  flat  woods  heel  promised 


7.V  THE    CLOUDS.  7 

ter  bunch  thar  cattle  an'  send  'em  up  ter  ye  fur  the  sum- 
mer season,  that  ye  war  plumb  skeered  'bout  thar  bein' 
too  many  fur  one  man  ter  keer  fur,  an'  ye  did  n't  see 
how  ye  '  d  git  along  'thout  a  partner.  An'  ye  'lowed  ye  'd 
already  rented  Piomingo  Bald  right  reasonable,  an'  the 
owners  o'  the  cattle  would  pay  from  seventy-five  cents  to 
a  dollar  a  head ;  an'  ye  'd  gin  me  a  sheer  ef  I  'd  kem 
along  an'  holp  ye,  —  an'  all  sech  ez  that.  An'  I  kem  up 
in  the  spring,  an'  I  hev  been  on  this  hyar  durned  pinna- 
cle o'  perdition  ever  sence.  It  'minds  me  all  the  time  o' 
that  thar  high  mounting  in  the  Bible  whar  the  Tempter 
showed  off  all  the  kingdoms  o'  the  yearth.  What  ails  ye 
ter  git  arter  me  ?  I  hain't  tried  no  minkish  tricks  on 
you-uns." 

"Ye  hev,  Mink.     Yes,  ye  hev." 

Mink  looked  bewildered  f  3r  a  moment.  Then  a  shade 
of  consciousness  settled  on  his  face.  He  lifted  one  foot 
over  his  knee,  and  affected  to  examine  the  sole  of  his 
boot.  The  light  zephyr  was  tossing  his  long,  tangled 
locks,  the  sun  shone  through  their  filaments.  No  vanity 
was  expressed  in  wearing  them  thus,  —  only  some  vague 
preference,  some  prosaic  prejudice  against  shears.  Their 
fineness  and  lustre  did  nothing  to  commend  them,  and 
they  had  been  contemptuously  called  a  "  sandy  bresh- 
heap."  His  bright  eyes  had  a  fringe  of  the  same  unique 
tint  that  softened  their  expression.  He  dropped  his  boot 
presently,  and  fixed  his  gaze  upon  a  flitting  yellow  but- 
terfly, lured  by  some  unexplained  fascination  of  fragrance 
to  these  skyey  heights. 

"  Ye  can't  make  out  ez  I  stand  in  yer  way,  enny,"  he 
said  at  last,  enigmatically. 

Doaks's  face  flushed  suddenly.  "  Naw,  I  ain't  claimin' 
ez  I  hev  enny  chance.  Ef  I  hed,  an'  ye  war  in  my  way," 
he  continued,  abruptly,  with  a  sudden  flare  of  spirit,  "  I  'd 
choke  the  life  out'n  ye,  an'  fling  yer  wu'thless  carcass  ter 
the  wolves.  I  'd  crush  yer  skull  with  the  heel  o'  my 
boot !  " 

He  stood  up  for  a  moment ;  then  turned  suddenly,  and 
sat  down  again.  Mink  looked  at  him  curiously,  with 
narrowing  lids. 


8  /tv  THE   CLOUDS. 

Doaks's  hands  were  trembling.  His  eyes  were  alert, 
alight.  The  blood  was  pulsing  fast  through  his  veins. 
So  revivified  was  he  by  the  bare  contemplation  of  the 
contingency  that  he  seemed  hardly  recognizable  as  the 
honest,  patient,  taciturn  comrade  of  Piomingo  Bald. 

"  Waal,"  Mink  said  presently,  "  that  war  one  reason 
I  wanted  ter  herd  along  o'  you-uns  this  year.  I  'lowed 
1  'd  make  right  smart  money  through  the  summer  season, 
an'  then  me  an'  Lethe  would  git  married  nex'  fall, 
mebbe.  My  folks  air  so  pore  an'  shiftless,  —  an'  I  'd  ez 
lief  live  along  of  a  catamount  ez  Lethe's  step-mother,  — 
an'  so  I  'lowed  we  'd  try  ter  git  a  leetle  ahead  an'  set  up 
for  ourselves." 

Doaks  trembled  with  half-repressed  excitement. 
"Ye  tole  me  ez  ye  an'  she  hed  quar'led,"  he  said. 
"  Ye  never  dreampt  o'  sech  a  thing  ez  savin'  fur  a  house 
an'  sech  till  this  mi  nit.  Ye  ain't  been  ter  see  her  sence 
ye  hev  been  on  the  Big  Smoky  till  ye  fund  out  ez  I  went 
down  thar  wunst  in  a  while,  an'  the  old  folks  favored 
me." 

"  Waal,"  retorted  Mink,  hardily,  "I  know  she  'd  make 
it  up  with  me  enny  minit  I  axed  her." 

Doaks  said  nothing  for  a  time.  Then  suddenly, 
"  Waal,  then,  ef  ye  air  layin'  off  ter  marry  Lethe  Sayles, 
why  n't  ye  quit  hangin'  round  Elviry  Crosby,  an'  terri- 
fyin'  Peter  Rood  out  'n  his  boots  ?  They  'd  hev  been 
married  afore  now,  ef  ye  hed  lef  'em  be." 

"  Why  n't  she  quit  hangin'  round  me,  ye  'd  better 
say !  "  exclaimed  Mink,  with  the  flattered  laugh  of  the 
lady-killer.  ''  Laws-a-massy,  I  don't  want  ter  interfere 
with  nobody.  Let  the  gals  go  'long  an  '  marry  \vho  they 
please, —  an'  leave  me  alone  !  " 

His  manner  implied,  if  they  can  !  .-And  he  laughed 
once  more. 

Doaks  glanced  at  him  impatiently,  and  then  turned 
his  eyes  away  upon  the  landscape.  Fascinations  invisi- 
ble to  the  casual  gaze  revealed  themselves  to  him  day  by 
day.  He  had  made  discoveries.  In  some  seeming  in- 
definiteness  of  the  horizon  he  had  found  the  added 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  9 

beauty  of  distant  heights,  as  if,  while  he  looked,  the 
softened  outline  of  blue  peaks,  given  to  the  sight  of  no 
other  creature,  were  sketched  into  the  picture.  Once  a 
sudden  elusive  silver  glinting,  imperceptible  to  eyes  less 
trained  to  the  minutiae  of  these  long  distances,  told  him 
the  secret  source  of  some  stream,  unexplored  to  its 
head-waters  in  a  dark  and  bosky  ravine.  Sometimes  he 
distinguished  a  stump  which  he  had  never  seen  before 
in  a  collection  of  dead  trees,  girdled  long  ago,  and  stand- 
ing among  the  corn  upon  so  high  and  steep  a  slope  that 
the  slant  justified  the  descriptive  gibe  of  the  region, 
"  fields  hung  up  to  dry."  The  sky  too  was  his  familiar  ; 
he  noted  the  vague,  silent  shapes  of  the  mist  that  came 
and  went  their  unimagined  ways.  He  watched  the 
Olympian  games  of  the  clouds  and  the  wind.  He  marked 
the  lithe  lengths  of  a  meteor  glance  across  the  August 
heavens,  like  the  elastic  springing  of  a  shining  sword 
from  its  sheath.  The  moon  looked  to  meet  him,  waiting 
at  his  tryst  on  the  bald. 

He  had  become  peculiarly  sensitive  to  the  electric  con- 
ditions of  the  atmosphere,  and  was  forewarned  of  the 
terrible  storms  that  are  wont  to  break  on  the  crest  of  the 
great  mountain. 

Often  Mink  appealed  to  him  as  he  did  now,  imputing  a 
certain  responsibility. 

"Enny  thunder  in  that  thar  cloud?"  he  demanded, 
with  the  surly  distrust  which  accompanies  the  query, 
"  Does  your  dog  bite  't  " 

u  Naw  ;  no  thunder,  nor  rain  nuther." 

"  I  'm  powerful  glad  ter  hear  it,  'kase  I  don't  'sociate 
with  this  hyar  bald  when  thar  's  enny  lightning  around." 

He  had  heard  the  many  legends  of  "lightning  balls" 
that  are  represented  as  ploughing  the  ground  on  Piomin- 
go,  and  he  spoke  his  fears  with  the  frankness  of  one  pos- 
sessed of  unimpeachable  courage. 

"  That 's  what  makes  me  despise  this  hyar  spot,"  he 
said,  irritably.  "  Things  'pear  so  cur'ous.  I  feel  like 
I  hev  accidentally  stepped  off  'n  the  face  o '  the  yearth. 
An  '  I  hev  ter  go  mighty  nigh  spang  down  ter  the  foot  o' 
the  mounting  'fore  I  feel  like  folks  agin." 


10  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

He  glanced  downward  toward  the  nearest  trees  that 
asserted  the  right  of  growth  about  this  strange  and  bar- 
ren place.  "  Ye  can't  git  used  ter  nothin',  nuther. 
Them  cur'ous  leetle  woods  air  enough  ter  make  a  man 
'low  he  hev  got  the  jim-jams  ez  a  constancy.  I  dunno 
what 's  in  'em  !  My  flesh  creeps  whenever  I  go  through 
'em.  I  always  feel  like  ef  I  look  right  quick  I  '11  see 
suthin'  awful,  —  witches,  or  harnts,  or  —  I  dunno  !  " 

He  looked  down  at  them  again,  quickly  ;  but  he  was 
sure  not  quickly  enough. 

And  the  woods  were  of  a  strange  aspect,  chiefly  of  oaks 
with  gnarled  limbs,  full-leaved,  bulky  of  bole,  but  all  uni- 
formly stunted,  not  one  reaching  a  height  greater  than 
fifteen  feet.  This  characteristic  gave  a  weird,  unnatural 
effect  to  the  long  avenues  beneath  their  low-spreading 
boughs.  The  dwarfed  forest  encircled  Piomingo  Bald, 
and  stretched  along  the  summit  of  the  range,  unbroken 
save  where  other  domes  —  Silar's  Bald,  Gregory's  Bald, 
and  Parsons'  Bald  —  rose  bare  and  gaunt  against  the 
sky. 

"  Ez  ter  witches  an'  harnts  an'  them,  I  ain't  never 
seen  none  hyar  on  Piomingo  Bald,"  said  Doaks.  "  It 
ain't  never  hed  the  name  o'  sech,  like  Thunderhead." 

Mink  placed  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  and  held  his  chin 
in  his  hand.  His  roving  dark  eyes  were  meditative  now  ; 
some  spell  of  imagination  lay  bright  in  their  depths. 

"  Hev  he  been  viewed  lately  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Who  ?  "  demanded  Doaks,  rousing  himself. 

"  That  thar  Herder  on  Thunderhead,"  said  Mink, 
lowering  his  voice.  The  fibrous  mist,  hovering  about  the 
summit  of  Thunderhead  and  stretching  its  long  lines 
almost  over  to  Piomingo  Bald,  might  in  some  mysterious 
telegraphy  of  the  air  transmit  the  matter. 

"  Not  ez  I  knows  on,"  said  Doaks.  "  He  ain't  been 
viewed  lately.  But  Joe  Boyd,  he  's  a-herdin'  over  thar 
now :  I  kem  acrost  him  one  day  las'  week,  an'  he  'lowed 
ez  his  cattle  hed  been  actin'  powerful  strange.  I  'lowed 
the  cattle  mus'  hev  viewed  the  harnt,  an'  mebbe  he  war 
tryin'  ter  'tice  'em  off." 


7.V  THE   CLOUDS.  11 

"  Ef  ye  '11  b'lieve  me,"  said  Mink  ruminatively,  after 
a  pause,  "  I  never  hearn  none  o'  them  boys  tell  a  word 
about  that  tliar  harnt  of  a  herder  on  Thunderhead." 

"  Them  t'other  herders  on  Thunderhead  don't  hanker 
ter  talk  'bout  him,  noways,"  said  Doaks.  "  It 's  power- 
ful hard  ter  git  a  word  out'n  'em  'bout  it ;  they  're  mighty 
apt  ter  laff,  an'  'low  it  mus'  be  somebody  ridin'  roun' 
from  'cross  the  line.  But  it  '11  make  enny  of  'em  bleach 
ef  ye  ax  'em  suddint  ef  all  o'  Joshua  Nixon's  bones  war 
buried  tergether." 

The  mists  had  spanned  the  abyss  of  the  valley  in  a 
sheer,  gossamer-like  network,  holding  the  sunbeams  in  a 
glittering  entanglement.  They  elusively  caressed  the 
mountain  summit,  and  hung  about  the  two  lounging  fig- 
ures of  the  herders,  —  a  sort  of  ethereal  eavesdropping 
of  uncomfortable  suggestions,  —  and  slipped  into  the 
dwarfed  woods,  where  they  lurked  spectrally. 

"  Waal,  ef  ye  ax  'em  ef  Joshua  Nixon's  bones  war  all 
buried  tergether  they  '11  bleach,"  Doaks  repeated.  "  See 
that  thar  sort'n  gap  yander  ?  "  he  continued,  pointing  at 
a  notch  on  the  slope  of  Thunderhead.  "  They  fund  his 
bones  thar  under  a  tree  streck  by  lightning.  They 
'lowed  that  war  the  way  he  died.  But  the  wolves  an' 
the  buzzards  bed  n't  lef  enough  ter  make  sure.  They 
hed  scattered  his  bones  all  up  an'  down  the  slope.  He 
hed  herded  over  thar  a  good  many  year,  an'  some  o' 
the  t'other  boys  keered  fur  the  cattle  till  the  owners  kem 
in  the  fall." 

He  recounted  slowly.  Time  was  no  object  on  Pio- 
mingo  Bald. 

"  Waal,  nobody  hearn  nuthin'  mo'  'bout'n  it  fur  a  few 
years,  till  one  day  when  I  war  herdin'  thar  the  cattle  war 
all  fund,  runned  mighty  nigh  ter  death,  an'  a-bellerin' 
an'  a-cavortin'  ez  ef  they  war  'witched.  An'  one  o'  the 
herders,  Ike  Stern,  kem  in  thar  ter  the  cabin  an'  'lowed 
he  hed  seen  a  lot  o'  strange  cattle  'mongst  our'n,  an'  a 
herder  ridin'  'mongst  'em.  'Twar  misty,  bein'  a  rainy 
spell,  an'  he  lost  the  herder  in  the  fog.  Waal,  we  jes' 
'lowed  't  war  somebody  from  Picmingo  Bald  huntin'  fur 


12  JN  THE   CLOUDS. 

strays,  or  somebody  from  'cross  the  line.  So  we  jes' 
went  on  fryin'  the  meat,  an'  hakin'  the  hoe-cake,  an' 
settin'  roun'  the  fire ;  but  this  hyar  man  kept  on  com- 
plainin'  he  could  n't  holp  seein'  that  thar  herder.  An' 
wunst  in  a  while  he  'd  hold  his  hand  afore  his  eyes.  An' 
one  o'  the  old  herders,  —  Rob  Carrick  't  war,  —  he  jes' 
axed  him  what  that  herder  looked  like.  An'  Ike  jes' 
sot  out  ter  tell.  An'  the  coffee  war  a-bilin',  an'  the  meat 
a-sizzlin',  an'  Carrick  war  a-squattin'  afore  the  fire  a-list- 
enin'  an'  a-turnin'  the  meat,  till  all  of  a  suddint  he  lept 
up  an'  drapped  his  knife,  yellin',  t  My  God  !  ye  lyin' 
buzzard,  don't  ye  set  thar  a-tellin'  me  ez  Josh  Nixon  hev 
kem  all  the  way  from  hell  ter  herd  on  Thunderhead  ! 
Don't  ye  do  it !  Don't  ye  do  it !  '  An'  Ike  Stern,  —  he 
looked  like  he  seen  Death  that  minit ;  his  eyes  war  like 
coals  o'  fire,  an'  he  trembled  all  over,  —  he  jes'  said,  '  I 
see  I  hev  been  visited  by  the  devil,  fur  I  hev  been  gin 
ter  view  a  dead  man,  apin'  the  motions  o'  life.'  " 

Doaks  pulled  at  his  pipe  for  a  few  moments,  his  eyes 
still  absently  fixed  on  the  purple  peak  shimmering  in 
the  gauzy  white  mists  and  the  yellow  sunshine. 

"I  never  shell  furgit  that  night.  Thar  war  three 
men  thar :  one  hed  herded  along  o'  Josh  on  Thunder- 
head,  but  Ike  Stern  had  never  seen  him  in  life,  an'  me 
not  at  all.  Waal,  sir  !  the  rain  kem  down  on  the  roof, 
an'  the  wind  war  like  the  tromplin'  o'  a  million  o'  herds 
o'  wild  cattle.  We  'lowed  we  hed  never  hearn  sech  a 
plungin'  o'  the  yellemints.  The  night  war  ez  dark  ez  a 
wolf's  mouth,  'cept  when  it  lightened,  an'  then  we  could 
see  we  war  wropped  in  the  clouds.  An'  through  all 
them  crackin'  peals  them  men  talked  'bout  that  thar 
harnt  o'  a  Herder  on  Thunderhead.  Waal,  nex'  mornin' 
Stern  jes'  gin  up  his  job,  an'  went  down  the  mounting 
ter  Piomingo  Cove.  An'  he  stayed  thar,  too.  They 
'lowed  he  done  no  work  fur  a  year  an'  a  day.  His  time 
war  withered  an'  his  mind  seemed  darkened." 

"He  'pears  ter  hev  toler'ble  good  sense  now,"  said 
Mink,  striving  against  credulity. 

"  Yes,  he  hev  spryed  up  powerful." 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  13 

"  Waal,"  said  Mink,  constrained  by  the  fascination  of 
the  supernatural,  k<  I  hev  hearn  ez  Carrick  seen  the 
Herder,  too." 

u  He  did,"  replied  Doaks.  "  Arter  a  while  —  a  week, 
mebbe  —  Rob  kern  up  ter  me  an'  axed,  '  Whar  's  them 
cattle  a-bellerin'?  '  I  listened,  but  I  never  hearn  nuthin'. 
We  hed  missed  some  steers  arter  Ike  hed  seen  the 
Herder,  an'  Rob  war  sorter  'feard  they'd  run  down 
inter  the  cove.  He  jumped  on  a  half-bruk  clay-bank 
colt  an'  rid  off,  thinkin'  the  bellerin'  mought  be  them. 
Waal,  time  passed.  I  hed  nuthin'  in  partic'lar  ter  do  : 
cattle  war  salted  the  day  before.  Time  passed.  I  jes' 
sot  thar.  I  'lowed  I  'd  wait  till  Rob  kem  back,  then  I  'd 
go  a-huntin'.  Time  passed.  I  'lowed  I  'd  furgit  how 
ter  talk  ef  I  war  n't  herdin'  along  o'  sech  a  sociable  crit- 
ter ez  Rob,  an'  I  wondered  ef  I  war  by  myself  up  on 
Thunderhead  ef  I  'd  hev  ter  talk  ter  myse'f  a  little. 
An'  ez  I  sot  thar  in  the  fog  —  't  war  September  then, 
an'  we  war  clouded  ez  a  constancy  —  I  said,  jes'  like  a 
fool,  out  loud,  suddint,  '  Howdy,  sir  !  '  Waal,  I  never 
did  know  what  I  seen  ez  I  looked  up  ;  mought  hev  been 
the  mist,  mought  hev  been  the  devil.  I  'lowed  I  seen  a 
man  on  a  horse  gallopin'  off  in  the  fog.  Then  I  hearn 
a  power  o'  jouncin'  hoofs,  an'  hyar  kem  Rob's  colt  a- 
rearin'  an'  a-pawin',  skeered  ter  death  mighty  nigh,  with 
all  the  hide  scraped  off'n  his  knees,  an'  his  shins  barked 
bad.  I  seen  he  hed  hed  a  fall ;  so  I  jumped  up  an'  run 
down  a  leetle  piece  along  the  trail,  an'  thar  war  Rob 
lyin'  on  the  groun',  flunged  over  the  colt's  head  ez  neat 
an'  nip  !  I  run  up  ter  him.  I  'lowed  he  war  hurt.  He 
never  answered  a  word  I  axed  him.  His  eyes  war 
stretched  open  bigger  'n  enny  eye  I  ever  seen,  an'  he 
said,  *  Ye  hev  viewed  him  too,  Ben,  I  know  it,  fur  ye  've 
got  the  "  harnt  bleach."  I  know  the  reason  now,'  says 
Rob,  '  ez  he  herds  on  Thunderhead,  —  'kase  his  bones 
war  n't  all  buried  tergether,  though  we  sarched  nigh  an' 
we  sarched  fur.'  " 

u  Did  the  Herder  tell  him  that?  "  asked  Mink,  with  a 
sudden  accession  of  credulity. 


14  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  Naw,  ye  durned  fool !  "  exclaimed  Doaks,  scandal- 
ized at  the  idea  of  this  breach  of  spectral  etiquette. 
"  The  Herder  jes'  passed  him  like  the  wind,  an'  the  colt 
jes'  reared  and  flung  Rob  over  his  head." 

"Waal,"  said  Mink  sturdily,  "I  b'lieve  't  war  nuthin' 
but  somebody  from  the  Car'liny  side,  ridin'  roun'  an' 
tollin'  off  cattle." 

"Mebbe,"  said  Doaks,  non-committally.  "Ye  can't 
prove  nuthin'  by  me.  All  I  know  is,  Carrick  seen  his 
face,  an'  he  jes'  fell  in  a  sorter  stupor  for  a  year  an'  a 
day.  I  hev  hearn  o'  sech  sperits  ez  can't  kill  ye,  but 
jes'  wither  yer  time,  an'  mebbe  this  hyar  Herder  on 
Thunderhead  be  one  o'  them." 

Neither  spoke  for  some  moments.  Both  sat  gazing 
fixedly  at  the  massive  mountain  in  the  likeness  of  a 
cloud  lowering  aggressively  over  the  mean  altitudes  of 
the  range.  What  wrath  of  elements  did  it  hold  en- 
chained ?  What  bolts  of  heaven  unhurled  ?  What 
strange  phenomena  of  being  might  lurk  in  those  mystic 
vapors  metamorphosed  into  the  solidities  of  earth  —  this 
apostate  cloud  that  asserted  itself  a  mountain  ?  The  sky 
was  clear  about  it  now  ;  the  mists  had  all  drifted  over  to 
Piomingo  Bald,  veiling  the  dwarfed  forests. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  vague  shiver  among  them.  Into 
the  silence  was  projected  the  report  of  a  rifle.  The  two 
men  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  looked  at  each  other. 

"  Somebody  a-huntin',  I  reckon,"  said  Mink.  He  was 
beginning  to  laugh,  a  little  shamefacedly. 

"  Listen  !  "  said  Doaks.     "  What 's  that  ?  " 

The  cattle  were  bellowing  with  affright  in  the  stunted 
woods.  The  earth  shook  under  their  hoofs.  A  young 
bull  came  plunging  out  of  the  mists.  He  paused  as  he 
reached  the  bare  slope,  lifted  his  head,  and  looked  back 
over  his  shoulder  with  great  dilated  eyes. 

"  What  ails  the  cattle  ?  "  exclaimed  Doaks,  running 
down  the  slope.  Mink  hesitated  for  a  moment,  then  fol- 
lowed. 

The  boles  of  the  dwarfed  trees  stood  shadowy  here 
and  there,  growing  still  more  indistinct  further,  and  fad- 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  15 

ing  into  the  white  opaque  blankness  of  the  vapor.  So 
low  were  their  summits  that  one  could  see  the  topmost 
boughs,  despite  the  encompassing  mist. 

All  the  cattle  were  in  the  wildest  excitement,  snorting 
and  bellowing,  and,  with  lowered  horns,  and  tails  in  the 
air,  they  were  making  at  full  speed  for  the  upper  regions 
of  the  bald.  Each,  bursting  out  of  the  densities  of  the 
fog,  separated  from  the  others,  seemed  to  give  some  in- 
dividual expression  of  bovine  rage.  There  might  be 
heard,  but  not  seen,  an  infuriated  animal  hard  by,  tear- 
ing up  the  ground. 

"  Waal,  I  never  'sperienced  the  like  in  my  life  off  'n 
Thunderhead !  "  exclaimed  Doaks. 

Mink  said  nothing  ;  he  sprang  aside  to  avoid  the  head- 
long rush  of  a  brute  that  shot  out  of  the  mist  and  into  it 
again  with  the  swift  unreality  of  an  apparition. 

Then  he  spoke  suddenly.  "  Ye  never  said  he  rid  with 
a  rifle." 

"Who?"  asked  Doaks,  bewildered.  He  was  in  ad- 
vance. He  looked  back  over  his  shoulder.  "Who?" 
he  repeated. 

"  That  thar  Herder  from  Thunderhead."  said  Mink. 

"  Ye  dough-faced  id  jit,  —  what  d'  ye  mean  ?  " 

Mink  pointed  silently. 

A  few  yards  distant  there  was  a  rude  barricade  of 
felled  trees,  laid  together  after  the  zigzag  manner  of  a 
rail  fence.  It  was  intended  to  prevent  the  cattle  from 
running  down  a  precipitous  ravine  which  it  overlooked. 
Close  to  it  in  the  mist  a  cow  was  lying.  There  was  no 
mistaking  the  attitude.  The  animal  was  dead.  A  care- 
fully aimed  rifle-ball  had  penetrated  the  eye,  and  buried 
itself  in  the  brain. 


II. 

THEKE  was  blood  upon  the  ground.  An  awkward  at- 
tempt had  been  made  to  cut  the  brute's  throat,  and,  this 
failing,  the  rifle  had  been  called  into  use.  Doaks  walked 
up  to  the  animal,  and  turned  her  head  to  look  for  the 
brass  tag  about  her  horns  which  would  bear  her  owner's 
mark.  She  wore  no  tag,  and  her  hide  had  never  known 
the  branding-iron.  His  eye  fell  on  a  peculiar  perfora- 
tion in  her  ear. 

"  Mink,"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  note  of  anguish,  "  this 
hyar  critter  's  my  cow  !  " 

Mink  came  up,  his  countenance  adjusted  to  sympathy. 
He  had  little  of  the  instinct  of  acquisition.  He  was  al- 
most incapable  of  any  sentiment  of  that  marvelous  range 
of  emotions  which  vibrate  with  such  fineness  of  suscepti- 
bility to  the  alternations  of  gain  and  loss.  He  looked 
like  an  intelligent  animal  as  he  helped  make  sure  of  the 
herder's  mark. 

"  Ye  hed  sech  a  few  head  o'  stock  o'  yer  own,  enny- 
ways,"  he  observed,  with  a  dolorous  lack  of  tact. 

"  Oh,  Lord  A'mighty,  none  sca'cely,"  exclaimed  Doaks, 
feeling  very  poor.  "  I  dunno  how  in  this  worl'  this  hyar 
cow  happened  ter  be  singled  out." 

"Mebbe  he  hed  a  gredge  agin  ye,  too,  'bout  them 
bones,  bein'  ez  ye  herded  on  Thunderhead  wunst,"  sug- 
gested Mink. 

"  What  bones  ?  "  demanded  Doaks,  amazed. 

"  Why,  his'n,"  said  Mink,  in  a  lowered  voice. 

"  In  the  name  o'  reason,  Mink,  what  air  ye  a-drivin' 
at  ?  "  cried  Doaks,  flustered  and  aghast. 

"Why,  the  Herder,  o'  course.  Him  ez  skeered  the 
cattle  on  Thunderhead.  I  'lowed  mebbe  he  hed  a  gredge 
agin  you-uns,  too." 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  17 

"  How  '(I  he  kem  over  hyar  ?  "  demanded  Doaks,  with 
scorn,  as  if  the  harnt  of  a  Herder  were  limited  to  the 
locality  of  Thunderhead.  "  It 's  a  deal  mo'  likely  ter  be 
some  livin'  man  ez  hev  got  a  gredge  agin  ye  fur  yer 
minkish  ways,  an'  seem'  the  critter  hed  no  tag  on,  an' 
war  n't  branded  nuther,  killed  her  fur  ye." 

Mink  drew  a  long  breath.  "Waal,  I  hope  so,  the 
Lord  knows.  I  'd  settle  him."  An  essentially  mundane 
courage  was  his,  but  a  sturdy  endowment  as  far  as  it 
went. 

His  imagination  was  of  the  pursuant  order ;  it  struck 
out  no  new  trail,  but,  given  a  lead,  it  could  follow  with 
many  an  active  expression  of  power.  He  accepted  at 
once  this  suggestion,  with  a  confidence  as  complete  as  if 
he  had  never  credited  the  grudge  of  a  ghostly  herder. 

"  An'  I  '11  be  bound  I  kin  tell  ye  jes'  who  't  war,"  he 
said,  stoutly,  producing  a  corollary  to  the  proposition  he 
had  adopted  as  his  own.  "  'T  war  that  thar  pop-eyed 
fool  Peter  Rood.  I  reckon  ye  hev  noticed,  ef  one  o' 
them  black-eyed,  thick-set,  big-headed  men  git  made 
game  of  'bout  ennything,  he  '11  pay  ye  back  some  mean 
way.  Stiddier  skeerin'  me  fur  skeerin'  him,  he  kerns 
hyar  an'  shoots  that  cow." 

He  thrust  one  hand  in  his  leather  belt,  and  turned  his 
bold  bright  glance  on  his  partner.  As  he  stood  at  his 
full  height,  vigorous,  erect,  a  touch  of  freakishness  in 
his  eyes,  decision  expressed  in  his  clear-cut  features,  a 
certain  activity  suggested  even  in  his  motionless  pose,  it 
might  have  seemed  that  the  revenge  of  shooting  the  cow 
was  the  more  hopeful  project. 

Doaks,  a  philosopher  in  some  sort,  and  reflective,  could 
discriminate  as  to  motives. 

"Rood  never  done  it  fur  that  by  itself.  I  don't 
b'lieve  he  would  hev  done  it  jes'  fur  that.  But  the  way 
ez  ye  hev  been  performin'  sence  'bout  Elviry  Crosby  air 
powerful  aggervatin'.  I  hearn  tell  ez  she  hev  turned 
Rood  off,  an'  won't  speak  ter  him,  though  the  weddin' 
day  hed  been  set !  1  reckon  he  felt  like  payin'  ye  back 
ennyhow  it  kem  handy." 


18  .  7^V  THE   CLOUDS. 

Doaks  drew  a  plug  of  tobacco  from  his  pocket, 
wrenched  off  a  fragment  with  his  strong  teeth,  and, 
talking  indistinctly  as  he  chewed,  continued,  the  anxiety 
of  forecast  blunting  the  actual  pain  of  experience. 

"  Ef  he  keeps  this  hyar  up,  Mink,  —  ef  it 's  him,  an' 
he  kerns  roun'  shootin'  at  cattle  agin,  —  he  mought  git 
some  o'  the  owners'  stock  nex'  time,  an'  they  mought 
hold  me  'sponsible.  I  dunno  whether  they  could  or  no. 
I  low  he  war  'quainted  with  this  cow,  an'  knowed  her 
ter  be  yourn,  an'  never  drempt  ez  ye  lied  swopped  her 
off  ter  me.  I  wisht  ter  Gawd  the  critter  knew  ye  hed 
no  cattle  on  the  mounting,  an'  ain't  'sponsible  ter  the 
owners,  ez  ye  never  traded  with  them,  but  arter  my  con- 
tract war  made  ye  jes'  went  shares  with  me." 

He  seated  himself  on  the  rude  fence  in  an  awkward 
attitude,  his  long  legs  dangling,  and  drew  out  a  red  cot- 
ton handkerchief  with  which  lie  rubbed  his  corrugated 
brow  as  vigorously  as  if  he  could  thus  smooth  out  the 
pucker  in  his  brain. 

"  Waal,  waal !  this  mortal  life  !  "  he  exclaimed,  pres- 
ently. "  Satan  won't  leave  ye  in  peace.  Ye  may  go  an' 
set  yerse'f  up  on  the  bald  of  a  mounting,  herdin'  'mongst 
the  dumb  ones,  an'  the  worl'  an'  the  things  o'  this  life 
will  kem  a-cropin'  up  on  ye  with  a  rifle,  an'  ye  be  'bleeged 
ter  turn  'roun'  an'  cornsider  how  ye  kin  keep  what  ye  hev 
got  an'  how  ye  kin  git  mo'.  I  useter  'low  ef  I  war  a  per- 
fessin'  member,  this  worl'  would  n't  stick  so  in  my  craw ; 
so  I  tuk  cornsider' ble  pains  ter  git  religion,  an'  mighty 
nigh  wore  out  the  mourners'  bench  settin'  on  it  so  con- 
stant, till  I  war  actially  feared  the  Lord  would  be  per- 
voked  ter  see  me  in  the  front  row  o'  them  convicted  o'  sin 
at  every  revival,  and  visit  wrath  on  me.  An'  I  never  got 
religion  at  last;  though  I  feel  nigher  ter  it  on  Piomingo 
Bald  than  ennywhar  else,  till  Rood,  or  somebody,  starts 
up  like  they  hed  a  contract  with  Satan  to  be-devil  me." 

Mink  listened  with  a  sort  of  affectionate  ruefulness. 
Then  he  broke  forth,  suddenly,  "  Mebbe  I  mought  see 
Rood  ef  I  war  ter  go  down  ter  Piomingo  Cgve,  whar  the 
boys  be  goin'  ter  shoot  fur  beef  this  evenin'.  An'  I  kin 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  19 

let  hinffcnow  I  don't  own  no  cattle  up  hyar,  an*  hain't 
got  no  trade  with  the  owners,  an'  ain't  'sponsible  ter  no- 
body." 

There  was  a  sudden  expression  of  alarm  in  Doaks's 
face.  "  Don't  ye  let  Rood  know  we  suspicioned  him, 
'kase  he  mought  hev  hed  nuthin'  ter  do  with  it." 

"  Naw,"  said  Mink,  with  a  diplomatic  nod,  "  I  '11  jes' 
tell  that  whilst  I  'm  a-spreadin'  the  tale  'bout  the  cow." 

There  was  a  short  silence.  Doaks  still  sat,  with  a 
pondering  aspect,  on  the  fence. 

"  Rood  mought  take  his  gredge  out  on  you-uns  some 
other  way,  Mink,"  he  suggested  presently.  He  felt 
bound  in  conscience  to  present  the  contingency. 

"  I  'm  ekal  ter  him,"  said  Mink  hardily. 

In  fact,  Mink  bore  the  most  lightsome  spirit  down  the 
mountain,  scarcely  to  be  expected  in  a  man  who  goes  to 
invite  a  more  personal  direction  of  the  machinations  of  a 
feud.  He  would  have  dared  far  more  to  secure  a  respite 
from  the  loneliness  of  Piomingo  Bald,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  opportunity  of  mingling  in  the  festivity  of  shooting 
for  beef.  He  had  not  even  a  qualm  of  regret  for  the 
solitary  herder  whom  he  left  standing  at  the  fence,  gaz- 
ing down  at  him  a  trifle  wistfully.  He  was  out  of  sight 
presently,  but  Doaks  heard  the  mare's  hoofs  long  after 
he  had  disappeared,  —  the  more  distinctly,  because  of 
the  animal's  habit  of  striking  her  hind  feet  together. 

The  mists  had  lifted.  It  was  a  positive  happiness  to 
Mink  to  watch  the  forests  expand,  as  he  went  down  and 
down  the  rugged  ways  of  the  herders'  trail.  There  were 
taller  trees  on  every  hand ;  great  beds  of  ferns,  their 
fronds  matted  together,  began  to  appear  ;  impenetrable 
jungles  of  the  laurel  stretched  all  along  the  deep  ravines. 
Now  and  then  a  flash  of  crimson  rejoiced  the  sight; 
from  far  gleamed  the  red  cones  of  the  cucumber  tree ; 
the  trumpet-flower  blossomed  in  the  darkling  places  ;  he 
marked  the  lustre  of  the  partridge-berry  by  the  way- 
side. 

The  earth  was  moist  from  the  recent  rains,  as  the  nar- 
row, slippery  path,  curving  between  a  sheer  declivity  on 


20  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

one  side  and  an  almost  perpendicular  ascent^m  the 
other,  might  testify.  His  mare  traveled  it  in  a  devil- 
may-care  fashion,  snatching  as  she  went  at  leaves  on  the 
slope  above,  regardless  that  a  false  step  would  precipi- 
tate both  herself  and  her  rider  into  eternity.  Noticing 
this  breach  of  manners,  Mink  now  and  then  gave  a  reck- 
less jerk  at  the  bit. 

"Dad-burn  ye!  ye  buzzard  !  A  greedy  body  would 
'low  ye  hed  never  hearn  tell  o'  nuthin'  ter  eat  afore  in 
this  worl'  ! " 

Here  it  was  only,  above  these  depths,  that  he  might 
see  the  sky,  —  afar  off,  as  was  meet  that  it  should  be : 
he,  the  earthling,  had  no  kinship  with  its  austere  infini- 
ties. The  growths  of  the  forest  were  now  of  incredible 
magnitude  and  magnificence.  Up  and  up  towered  the 
massive  boles,  with  a  canopy  of  leaves  so  dense  that  all 
the  firmament  was  effaced,  and  the  sunshine  trickling 
through  had  a  white,  tempered  glister  like  the  moon- 
beams. What  infinite  stretches  of  solitudes  !  What 
measureless  mountain  wilds  !  In  these  solemn  spaces 
Silence  herself  walked  unshod. 

Yet  stay  !  A  crystalline  vibration,  a  tinkling  tremor, 
a  voice  smiting  the  air,  so  delicately  attuned  to  all  sylvan 
rhythms,  with  an  accent  so  fine,  so  faint,  —  surely,  some 
oread  a-singing ! 

Nay  —  only  the  mountain  torrent,  dashing  its  fantas- 
tic cascades  down  its  rocky  channel,  with  a  louder  burst 
of  minstrelsy  and  a  flash  of  foam  as  its  glittering  swirl 
of  translucent  water  revealed  itself,  the  laurel  and  ferns 
crowding  upon  its  banks  and  a  cardinal  flower  reflected 
multiform  in  a  deep  and  shadowy  pool.  A  mossy  log 
spanned  it  as  foot-bridge,  and  then  it  slipped  away  into 
the  forest,  to  spring  out  suddenly  and  cross  the  road 
again  and  again  before  it  reached  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tain. Mink  reckoned  the  distance  by  its  reappearances, 
in  default  of  other  means. 

"  Ye  be  a-travelin'  toler'ble  smart  this  evenin',' '  he  ob- 
served to  the  mare.  "  Ye  be  mighty  nigh  ez  glad  ter 
git  off'n  that  thar  buzzard's  roost  up  yander  ez  I  be, 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  21 

though  I  don't  crack  my  heels  tergether  'bout  it  like  you- 
uns  do  yourn." 

He  did  riot  follow  the  road  into  Eskaqua  Cove  when 
he  reached  the  level  ground.  He  struck  off  through  one 
of  the  ridges  that  lie  like  a  moulding  about  the  base  of 
the  mountains,  crossed  another  nameless  barrier,  then  de- 
scended into  Piomingo  Cove.  Sequestered,  encompassed 
by  the  mountains,  rugged  of  surface,  veined  with  rock, 
its  agricultural  interest  is  hardly  served  by  the  condi- 
tions which  enhance  its  picturesque  aspect.  The  roofs 
of  a  few  log  cabins  at  long  intervals  peer  out  from  among 
scanty  orchards  and  fields.  Tobacco  flourishes  down 
the  sides  of  steep  funnel-shaped  depressions  worked  ex- 
clusively with  the  hoe,  and  suggesting  acrobatic  capacity 
as  a  co-requisite  with  industry  to  cultivate  it.  The 
woods  make  heavily  into  the  cove,  screening  it  from  fa- 
miliar knowledge  of  its  hills  and  dales. 

Mink,  trotting  along  the  red  clay  road,  came  suddenly 
upon  the  banks  of  the  Scolacutta  River,  riotous  with  the 
late  floods,  fringed  with  the  papaw  and  the  ivy  bush. 
Beyond  its  steely  glint  he  could  see  the  sun-flooded  sum- 
mit of  Chilhowee,  a  bronze  green,  above  the  intermedi- 
ate ranges :  behind  him  was  the  Great  Smoky,  all  unfa- 
miliar viewed  from  an  unaccustomed  standpoint,  mas- 
sive, solemn,  of  dusky  hue ;  white  and  amber  clouds 
were  slowly  settling  on  the  bald.  There  had  been  a 
shower  among  the  mountains,  and  a  great  rainbow, 
showing  now  only  green  and  rose  and  yellow,  threw  a 
splendid  slant  of  translucent  color  on  the  purple  slope. 
In  such  environment  the  little  rickety  wooden  mill  — 
with  its  dilapidated  leaking  race,  with  its  motionless 
wheel  moss-grown,  with  its  tottering  supports  throbbing 
in  the  rush  of  the  water  which  rose  around  them,  with  a 
loitering  dozen  or  more  mountaineers  about  the  door  — 
might  seem  a  feeble  expression  of  humanity.  To  Mink 
the  scene  was  the  acme  of  excitement  and  interest.  His 
blood  was  quickening  as  he  galloped  up,  his  hair  tossing 
under  the  wide  brim  of  his  hat,  his  stirrup-leathers  ad- 
justed to  the  full  length  of  his  leg  according  to  the  cus- 


22  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

torn  of  the  country,  his  rifle  laid  across  the  pommel  of 
his  saddle. 

"  Enny  chance  lef  fur  me  ?  "  he  asked,  as  he  reined 
in  among  the  loungers. 

This  observation  was  received  in  some  sort  as  a  salu- 
tation. 

"  Hy're,  Mink,"  said  several  voices  at  once.  Other 
men  merely  glanced  up,  their  eyes  expressing  languid 
interest. 

"Ye  don't  want  ter  shoot,  Mink,"  said  one,  with  a  jo- 
cose manner.  "  Ye  knowed  all  the  chances  would  be 
sold  by  now.  Ye  hev  jes'  kem  'kase  ye  hearn  old  Tobias 
Winkeye  air  out  agin." 

Mink's  dark  eyes  seemed  afire  with  some  restless  leap- 
ing light.  His  infectious  laughter  rang  out.  "Never 
s'picioned  it,  —  so  holp  me  Jimmy  !  When  ?  " 

"  Ter-night.  Ye  keep  powerful  low,"  with  a  caution- 
ary wink. 

"  I  reckon  so,"  promised  Mink  cordially. 

A  sullen  remonstrance  broke  into  these  amenities. 

"  Waal,  Jer'miah  Price,  I  dunno  ez  ye  hev  enny  call 
ter  let  all  that  out  ter  Mink  Lorey." 

Pete  Rood,  who  delivered  this  reproof,  was  not  an  ill- 
looking  fellow  naturally,  but  his  black  eyes  wore  a  low- 
ering, disaffected  expression.  His  swarthy  square-jawed 
face  indicated  a  temperament  which  might  be  difficult  to 
excite  to  any  keen  emotion,  and  was  incapable  of  nice 
discrimination  ;  but  which  promised,  when  once  aroused, 
great  tenacity  of  purpose.  He  wore  a  suit  of  gray  jeans, 
loosely  fitting,  giving  his  heavy  figure  additional  breadth. 
He  carried  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  lounged  about, 
throwing  an  occasional  word  over  his  shoulder  with  a 
jerky  incidental  manner. 

"Why  not  tell  Mink?"  exclaimed  Jerry  Price,  a  long, 
lank  fellow,  far  too  tall  and  slim  for  symmetry,  and 
whose  knees  had  a  sort  of  premonitory  crook  in  them,  as 
if  he  were  about  to  shut  up,  after  the  manner  of  a  clasp- 
knife,  into  comfortable  and  convenient  portability.  His 
head  was  frankly  red.  His  freckles  stood  out  plainly 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  23 

for  all  they  were  worth ;  and,  regarded  as  freckles,  they 
were  of  striking  value.  A  ragged  red  beard  hung  down 
on  his  unbleached  cotton  shirt.  Physically,  he  had  not 
a  trait  to  commend  him;  but  a  certain  subtle  magnetism, 
that  inborn  fitness  as  a  leader  of  men,  hung  upon  his 
gestures,  vibrated  in  his  words,  constrained  acquiescence 
in  his  rude  logic.  "  Ain't  Mink  always  been  along  of 
we-uns  ?  "  he  added. 

Mink  dismounted  slowly  and  hitched  his  mare  to  the 
limb  of  a  dogwood  tree  hard  by.  Then,  leaning  upon 
his  rifle,  he  drawled,  "  'Pears  like  everybody  's  gittin' 
sot  agin  me  these  days.  I  dunno  who  't  war,  but  this 
very  mornin'  somebody  kem  up  on  Piomingo  Bald  an' 
shot  a  cow  ez  used  ter  b'long  ter  me." 

He  raised  his  eyes  suddenly.  Rood  had  lounged  off  a 
few  steps  with  an  idle  gait,  swaying  from  side  to  side,  his 
hands  still  in  his  pockets.  But  there  was  tenseness  in 
the  pose  of  his  half-turned  head.  He  was  listening. 

"Hed  ye  done  traded  her  off?  "  asked  Price,  inter- 
ested. "  Gimme  a  chaw  o'  terbacco." 

"  Ain't  got  none.  Pete,  can't  ye  gin  this  hyar  desti- 
tute cuss  a  chaw  o'  terbacco  ?  " 

Rood  could  not  choose  but  turn  his  face,  while  he 
held  out  his  plug.  The  crafty  Mink  scanned  it,  as  he 
leaned  his  own  sun-burned  cheek  upon  the  muzzle  of  the 
long  rifle  on  which  he  lazily  supported  his  weight. 

"  Naw,  Jerry,  't  war  n't  my  cow.  I  can't  keep  nuthin' 
long  enough  ter  lose  it ;  I  hed  traded  her  off  to  Ben 
Doaks." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  patent  disappointment  on 
Rood's  face.  One  with  far  less  sharp  intelligence  than 
Mink  possessed  might  have  descried  that  hot  look  in  his 
eyes,  as  if  they  burned,  —  that  vacillating  glance  which 
could  fix  on  naught  about  him.  The  surprise  of  the 
moment  deterred  him  from  observing  Mink,  whose  air 
of  unconsciousness  afterward  afforded  no  ground  for 
suspicion  or  fear. 

Rood  pocketed  his  plug,  and  presently  slouched  off 
toward  the  tree  where  the  marksmen  were  preparing  for 
the  shooting-match. 


24  JN  THE   CLOUDS. 

Now  and  then  there  flitted  to  the  door  of  the  mill  the 
figure  of  a  stripling,  all  dusted  with  flour  and  meal,  and 
with  a  torn  white  hat  on  his  head.  He  wore  ragged 
jeans  trousers  of  an  indeterminate  hue,  and  an  unbleached 
cotton  shirt.  When  the  men  were  strolling  about,  he 
slunk  into  the  duskiness  within.  But  when  they  were 
all  intent  upon  the  projected  trial  of  skill,  he  crept  shyly 
to  the  door,  and  looked  out  with  a  singularly  blank,  in- 
expressive gaze. 

"  Hy're  ye,  Tad !  "  called  out  Mink  gayly. 

The  young  fellow  stood  for  an  instant  staring ;  then, 
with  a  wide,  foolish  grin  of  recognition,  disappeared 
among  the  shadows  within. 

u  Let  the  id  jit  be,  Mink,"  said  old  Griff,  the  miller, 
querulously,  —  "  let  him  be." 

He  was  a  man  of  sixty  years,  perhaps,  and  bending 
beneath  their  weight.  His  white  beard  was  like  a  patri- 
arch's, and  his  long  hair  hung  down  to  meet  it.  He  had 
a  parchment-like  skin,  corrugated,  and  seeming  darker 
for  the  contrast  with  his  hair  and  beard.  Beneath  his 
bushy  white  eyebrows,  restless,  irritable  eyes  peered  out. 
He  was  barefooted,  as  was  the  boy,  and  his  poverty  showed 
further  in  the  patches  on  his  brown  jeans  clothes. 

"Naw,  I  won't,"  said  Mink  irreverently.  "I  want 
ter  see  what  Tad  does  when  he  skeets  off  an'  hides  that- 
a-way." 

He  pressed  into  the  mill,  and  the  old  man  looked  after 
him  and  cursed  him  in  his  beard.  He  swore  with  every 
breath  he  drew. 

44  Go  on,  ye  dad-burned  fool . —  go  on  ter  damnation  ! 
Ever  sence  that  thar  sneakin'  Mink  hev  been  roun'  hyar," 
he  continued,  addressing  Price,  "  Tad  'pears  weaker  'n 
ever.  I  can't  'bide  ter  keep  Tad  in  the  house.  He  gits 
into  one  o'  his  r-uproarious  takin's,  an'  it  looks  like  hell 
could  n't  hold  him,  —  skeers  the  chill'n  mighty  nigh  ter 
death.  Yes,  sir !  my  gran'chil'n.  Daddy  war  shot  by 
the  revenuers,  mammy  died  o'  the  lung  complaint,  an' 
the  old  man  's  got  'em  all  ter  take  keer  of  —  ten  o'  'em. 
An'  my  nevy  Tad,  too,  ez  war  born  lackin'.  An'  ev'y 


7.V  THE   CLOUDS.  25 

one  of  'em  's  got  a  stommick  like  a  rat-hole  —  ye  can't 
fill  it  up.  Yes,  sir !  The  Lord  somehows  hev  got  his 
hand  out  in  takin'  keer  o'  me  an'  mine,  an'  he  can't  git 
it  in  agin." 

"  Waal,  they  holps  ye  mightily,  plowin'  an'  sech,  don't 
they,  —  the  biggest  ones  ;  an'  one  o'  the  gals  kin  cook, 
that  thar  spry  one,  'bout  fifteen  year  old ;  I  'm  a-goin' 
ter  wait  fur  her,  —  beats  all  the  grown  ones  in  the  cove 
fur  looks,"  said  the  specious  Jerry  Price.  "  An'  they  air 
all  mighty  good  chill'n,  ain't  they  ?  Oughter  be.  Good 
stock." 

"  Naw,  sir ;  naw,  sir !  "  the  old  man  replied,  so  precip- 
itately that  his  iterative  mutter  had  the  effect  of  inter- 
ruption. "  Durries'  meanes'  chill'n  I  ever  see.  Ripenin' 
fur  hell !  Scandalous  mean  chill'n." 

"  I  reckon  so,"  said  Rood  suddenly.  "  Thar  goes  one 
o'  'em  now."  He  pointed  to  a  scapegrace  ten  years  of 
age,  perhaps,  clad  in  a  suit  of  light  blue  checked  cotton. 
His  trousers  reached  to  his  shoulder  blades,  and  were 
sustained  by  a  single  suspender.  A  ragged  old  black  hat 
was  perched  on  the  back  of  his  tow  head.  He  had  the 
clothes-line  tied  to  the  h«d  leg  of  a  pig  which  he  was 
driving.  He  seemed  to  be  in  high  feather,  and  appar- 
ently felt  scant  lack  of  a  more  spirited  steed.  In  fact, 
the  pig  gave  ample  occupation  to  his  skill,  coming  to  a 
halt  sometimes  and  rooting  about  in  an  insouciant  man- 
ner, reckless  of  control.  When  he  was  pushed  and 
thumped  and  forced  to  take  up  the  line  of  march,  he  would 
squeal  dolorously  and  set  out  at  a  rate  of  speed  hardly 
predicable  of  the  porcine  tribe.  "  Look  how  he  's  a-actin' 
to  that  thar  pore  peeg,"  added  Rood. 

Old  Gus  Griff  fixed  his  dark  eye  upon  him. 

"  Enny  friend  o'  yourn  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Who  ?  "  demanded  Rood,  amazed. 

"  That  thar  peeg." 

"  Naw,  o'  course  not." 

"  Then  keep  yer  jaw  off'n  him.  Who  set  ye  up  ter 
jedge  o'  the  actions  o'  my  gran'chile.  That  thar  boy's 
name  air  'Gustus  Thomas  Griff  —  fur  me  !  An'  I  got 


26  /A7   THE   CLOUDS. 

nine  mo'  gran'chiPn  jes'  like  him.  An'  ye  lay  yer  rough 
tongue  ter  a  word  agin  one  o'  'em,  an'  old  ez  I  be  I'll 
stretch  ye  out  flat  on  that  thai-  groun'  they  air  a-medjurin' 
ter  shoot  on.  Ye  greasy  scandal-bit  scamp  yerse'f !  " 

Rood  was  fain  to  step  back  hastily,  for  the  miller  came 
blustering  up  with  an  evident  bellicose  intention.  "  Lord 
A'mighty,  old  man  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  never  said  nuthin' 
agin  'em,  'cept  what  ye  say  yerse'f.  I  would  n't  revile 
the  orphan !  " 

"  Jes'  stop  a-pityin'  'em,  then,  durn  ye !  "  exclaimed 
the  exacting  old  man.  "  They  ain't  no  orphans  sca'cely 
nohows,  with  thar  grandad  an'  sech  alive." 

"  That 's  what  I  knowed,  Mr.  Griff,"  said  the  bland 
Price,  standing  between  them.  "  Pete  's  jes'  'bidin'  the 
time  o'  the  fool-killer.  Must  be  a  powerful  rank  crap 
fur  him  somewhar,  bein'  ez  Pete  's  spared  this  long. 
That 's  what  I  knowed  an'  always  say  'bout  them 
chill'n." 

The  old  man,  mollified  for  the  instant,  paused,  his 
gnarled  knotted  hands  shaking  nervously,  the  tremor  in 
his  unseen  lips  sending  a  vague  shiver  down  all  the 
length  of  his  silver  beard.  The  excitement,  painful  to 
witness,  was  dying  out  of  his  eager  eyes,  when  a  mad 
peal  of  laughter  rang  out  from  the  recesses  of  the  old 
mill. 

"  What  be  that  thar  blamed  idjit  a-doin'  of  now !  him 
an'  that  thar  minkish  Mink !  " 

He  turned  and  went  hastily  into  the  shadowy  place. 
Bags  of  grain  were  scattered  about.  The  hopper  took 
up  much  room  in  the  limited  space  ;  behind  it  the  miller's 
nephew  and  Mink  were  sitting  on  the  step  of  a  rude  plat- 
form. They  had  a  half-bushel  measure  inverted  between 
them,  ar.d  on  it  was  drawn  a  geometric  figure  upon  which 
were  ranged  grains  of  corn. 

There  was  a  pondering  intentness  on  the  idiot's  wide 
face  very  nearly  approaching  a  gleam  of  intelligence. 
Mink,  incongruously  patient  and  silent,  awaited  Tad's 
play ;  both  were  unaware  of  the  old  man,  among  the 
dusky  shadows,  peering  at  them  from  over  the  hopper. 


IN  THE    CLOUDS.  27 

At  last,  Tad,  with  an  appealing  glance  at  Mink,  and  an 
uncertain  hand,  adjusted  a  grain  of  corn.  He  leaned 
forward  eagerly,  as  Mink  promptly  played  in  turn. 
Then,  fixing  all  the  faculties  of  his  bedouded  mind  upon 
the  board,  he  finally  perceived  that  the  game  had  ended, 
and  that  his  opponent  was  victor.  Once  more  his  harsh 
lauo-hter  echoed  from  the  rafters.  "  Ye  won  it,  Mink. 

O 

Ye  won  the  coon." 

"  I  don't  want  yer  coon,"  said  Mink,  good-naturedly. 
"  Ye  kin  keep  yer  coon  ter  bet  nex'  time." 

"Naw,  ye-  kin  hev  the  coon,  Mink  !  "  He  caught  at 
a  string  dandling  from  a  beam.  "  Kem  down  hyar,  ye 
id  jit !  "  he  cried,  with  a  strange,  thick-tongued  enuncia- 
tion. "  Kem  down  hyar,  ye  damned  fool ! ' 

The  old  man  suddenly  made  his  way  around  the  hop- 
per and  stood  before  them.  Tad  rose,  with  a  startled 
face.  Mink  looked  up  composedly. 

"  Do  ye  know  what  ye  air  a-doin'  of,  Mink  Lorey  ?  " 
asked  the  old  man,  sternly. 

"  L'arnin'  Tad  ter  play  *  five  corn,'  "  said  Mink,  inno- 
cently. "  He  kin  play  right  sorter  peart  fur  a  lackin' 
one.  I  dunno  ez  I  b'lieve  Tad  's  so  powerful  fursaken 
noways,  ef  ennybody  would  take  the  pains  ter  1'arn  him. 
I  b'lieves  he  'd  show  a  right  mind  arter  a  while." 

"  An'  thar  ye  sit,  ez  complacent  ez  a  bull-frog — ye 
that  the  Lord  hev  favored  with  senses,"  cried  the  old 
man,  "  sech  ez  they  be,"  he  stipulated,  making  not  too 
much  of  Mink's  endowments,  "  a-usin'  of  'em  ter  ruin 
a  pore  idjit  boy,"  —  Mink's  eyes  flashed  surprise,  — 
"  a-1'arnin'  him  ter  play  a  gamblin'  gamje." 

"Shucks!  five  corn!"  cried  Mink,  accustomed  to  the 
miquity  of  "playin'  kyerds,"  and  scorning  to  rate  the 
puerile  beguilements  of  "  five  corn  "  among  the  "  gam- 
bling games  "  which  he  had  mastered,  —  "  what 's  five 
corn!  Enny  child  kin  play  it  —  that  thar  coon  could 
1'arn  it  ef  he  hed  a  mind  ter- do  it.  I  don't  want  the 
critter.  Tad  ;  I  don't  want  it." 

The  old  man's  tongue  had  found  its  ready  oaths. 
"  A-fixin'  on  the  idjit  boy  fur  the  prey  o'  Satan.  A-l'arn- 


28  IN   THE   CLOUDS. 

in'  him  ter  play  a  gamblin'  game  ter  damn  his  soul.    An' 
a-trickin'  him  out'n  his  coon." 

"  I  never  !  "  cried  Mink,  in  hasty  extenuation.  "  I  jes' 
put  up  my  rifle  agin  his  coon  ter  make  him  think  he  war 
playin'  sure  enough!  But  I  ain't  a-goin'  ter  keep  his 
coon,  an'  I  don't  want  it,  nuther !  " 

"  I  kin  read  the  future,"  cried  out  the  old  man,  sud- 
denly, flinging  up  his  hand  and  shading  his  peering  eyes 
with  it.  "  I  kin  view  the  scenes  o'  hell.  I  see  ye,  Mink 
Lorey,  a-writhin'  in  the  pits  o'  torment,  with  the  flames 
a-wroppin'  round  ye,  an'  a-swallerin'  melted  iron  an' 
a-smellin'  sulphur  an'  brimstone.  I  see  ye !  Bless  the 
Lord,  —  I  see  ye  thar  !  " 

" Naw,  ye  don't!"  interpolated  Mink,  angrily. 

The  idiot  had  slunk  to  one  side,  and  was  gazing  at  the 
two  with  a  wrhite,  startled  face,  still  mechanically  jerking 
the  string,  at  the  end  of  which  the  reluctant  coon  tugged 
among  the  beams  above. 

"  I  see  ye  thar,  —  damned  yerse'f  fur  tryin'  ter  damn 
the  id  jit's  soul !  " 

"  Ye  'd  better  look  arter  yer  own  soul !  "  cried  Mink, 
"  an'  quit  1'arnin'  the  idjit  ter  cuss.  He  do  it  percisely 
like  he  gits  the  word  from  ye,  an'  ye  air  a  perfessin'  mem- 
ber, what  shouts  at  the  camp-meetin',  an'  prays  with  'the 
Power,'  an'  laffs  with  the  '  holy  laff  ' !  Shucks  !  I  hev 
hearn  ye  exhortin'  them  on  the  mourners'  bench." 

Once  more  the  old  man  broke  out  angrily. 

Mink  interrupted.  "  Quit  cussin'  me  !  Quit  it !  "  he 
cried.  He  wore  a  more  harried  look  than  one  would 
have  believed  possible,  as  the  miller,  with  his  hoary  head 
and  tremulous  beard,  pressed  close  upon  him  in  the  dark, 
narrow  apartment,  the  idiot's  white  face  —  a  sort  of  ajf 
frighted  glare  upon  it  —  dimly  visible  beside  him.  "  Quit 
it !  I  ain't  a-goin'  ter  take  nare  nuther  word  off  'n 
ye!" 

"  How  ye  goin'  ter  holp  it  ?  Goin'  ter  hit  a  old  man, 
—  old  enough  ter  be  yer  grandad,  eh  ? "  suggested  the 
wary  old  -creature,  making  capital  of  his  infirmities. 

"  I  '11  bust  yer  mill  down,  ef  ye  don't  lemme  out'n  it. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  29 

Lemme  out !  "  cried  Mink,  tumultuously,  striving  to  push 
past. 

Jerry  Price's  long,  lank  figure  appeared  in  the  door- 
way. It  was  not  policy  which  animated  him,  for  he  had 
nothing  at  stake.  With  an  inherent  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  some  untutored  instinctive  capacity  for  manipu- 
lating its  idiosyncrasies,  he  half  consciously  found  a  cer- 
tain satisfaction  in  exercising  his  keen  acumen  on  the 
men  about  him.  It  might  have  been  employed  more 
profitably  in  the  field  of  local  politics,  had  the  gift  been 
adequately  realized  and  valued.  He  was  of  an  amiable, 
even  of  an  admirable,  temperament,  and  he  devised  the 
adjustment  of  many  complications,  in  which  open  inter- 
ference would  avail  naught,  by  subtly  appealing  to  some 
predominant  motive  or  sentiment  with  the  accuracy  with 
which  a  surgeon  can  touch  a  nerve. 

"  Look-a-hyar,  Mink,"  he  said,  apparently  unobservant 
of  any  signs  of  a  quarrel,  "  ain't  you-uns  a-goin'  ter 
shoot  ?  "  f 

Mink's  angry  aspect  dropped  like  a  husk. 

"  Waal,  I  can't,  ye  know,"  he  said-  in  a  voice  eager 
with  interest.  "  They  'lowed  ter  me  ez  they  hed  done 
made  up  the  money  an'  bought  the  beef,  an'  all  the 
chances  are  gone,  —  six  fur  a  dollar,  shillin'  apiece." 

"  Waal,  I  bought  eight  chances.  I  '11  let  ye  hev  two 
of  'em,  ef  two  '11  do  ye." 

"  Jiminy  Crack-corn  an'  I  don't  keer !  "  exclaimed 
Mink,  doubling  himself  partly  in  a  gesture  of  ecstasy, 
and  partly  to  reach  a  silver  coin  that  led  a  lonesome  life, 
in  the  depths  of  his  long  pocket.  He  handed  it  over, 
and  slapped  his  leg  with  a  sounding  thwack.  "  I  could 
shoot  ye  all  off  'n  the  ground,  an'  I  kin  git  the  fust  an' 
second  ch'ice  in  two  cracks." 

Rood,  in  the  doorway  behind  Price,  regarded  the  trans- 
action with  disapproval. 

"  I  don't  b'lieve  it 's  'cordin'  ter  rules,  Jerry,"  he  ex- 
postulated, "  ter  go  roun'  an'  swap  off  yer  chances  arter 
ye  paid  fur  'em.  I  never  seen  it  done  afore,  noways." 

"  Ye  hold  yer  jaw !  "  said  Price,  imperious,  though 


30  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

good-natured.  "  I  hev  shot  fur  beef  'fore  ye  war  born  !  " 
—  a  diminutive  marksman,  were  this  statement  to  receive 
full  credit,  since  he  was  but  a  year  or  two  older  than 
Rood. 

Irregular  though  it  may  have  been,  there  was  no  ap- 
peal from  the  self-arrogated  authority  of  Price,  and  his 
oft-reiterated  formula  as  to  his  experience  before  his  in- 
terlocutor's birth  had  all  the  enlightened  functions  of  pre- 
cedent. 

Rood  said  no  more,  appreciating  the  futility  of  remon- 
strance. He  stood,  surly  enough,  in  the  doorway,  listen- 
ing absently  to  the  garrulous  clamor  of  the  old  miller, 
who  was  telling  again  and  again  of  Mink's  iniquity  in 
teaching  Tad  "five  corn/'  and  of  his  threats  against  the 
mill. 

"  I  dare  ye  ter  lay  a  finger  on  the  mill !  "  he  cried. 
"  I  '11  put  ye  in  that  thar  hopper  an'  grind  every  ounce  o' 
yer  carcass  ter  minch  meat." 

Mink  gave  him  no  heed.  He  had  joined  the  group  of 
marksmen  near  the  tree  on  which  the  targets  were  to  be 
fixed.  He  was  loading  his  gun,  holding  the  ball  in  the 
palm  of  his  hand,  and  pouring  enough  powder  over  it  to 
barely  cover  it  in  a  conical  heap.  He  dexterously  adjusted 
the  "patching,"  and  as  he  rammed  down  the  charge  he 
paused  suddenly.  From  a  little  log  cabin  on  a  rise  hard 
by,  a  delicate  spiral  wreath  of  smoke  curled  up  over  the 
orchard*  ar.d  airily  defined  itself  against  the  mountain. 
Beside  the  rail  fence  a  girl  of  fifteen  was  standing  ; 
sunny-haired,  blue-eyed,  barefooted,  and  slatternly.  The 
peaches  were  ripe  in  the  weighted  trees  above  her  head  ; 
he  heard  the  chanting  bees  among  them.  The  pig  was 
grunting  luxuriously  among  their  roots  and  the  fallen 
over-ripe  fruit ;  for  his  driver,  'Gustus  Tom,  and  the  elder 
boy,  Joseph,  had  gone  down  to  the  mill  for  a  closer  view 
of  the  shooting ;  the  small  girls  who  had  mounted  the 
fence  being  deterred  from  accompanying  them  by  femi- 
nine decorum.  The  dogs  appertaining  to  the  place  had 
also  gone  down  to  the  mill,  and  were  conferring  with  the 
followers  of  the  contestants  in  the  match.  One,  how- 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  31 

ever,  a  gaunt  and  gray  old  hound,  that  had  half  climbed 
the  fence,  hesitated,  his  fore-paws  resting  on  the  topmost 
rail,  a  lean,  eager  curiosity  on  his  grave,  serious  coun- 
tenance, his  neck  stretched,  his  head  close  to  the  pretty 
head  of  the  golden-haired  maiden. 

"  Howdy,  sis !  "  called  out  the  bold  Mink,  the  ramrod 
arrested  half-way  in  the  barrel,  his  face  shadowed  by  his 
broad-brimmed  hat,  his  hair  flaunting  in  the  wind. 

She  gave  a  flattered  smile,  full  of  precocious  coquetry. 

"•  Sick  him,  Bose  !  "  she  exclaimed  to  the  faithful  dog. 
"  Sick  Iwm  !  " 

Bose  fastened  his  glare  on  Mink,  raised  his  bristles, 
and  growled  obediently. 

The  young  man  with*  a  gay  laugh  drove  the  charge 
home,  and  rattled  the  ramrod  sharply  into  its  place. 

Already  the  first  report  of  the  rifle  had  pealed  into  the 
quietude  of  the  cove ;  the  rocks  clamored  as  with  the 
musketry  of  a  battle.  Far,  far  and  faint  the  sound 
clanged  back  from  the  ranges  between  Chilhowee  and 
the  river,  from  all  the  spurs  and  ravines  of  the  Big 
Smoky.  The  sunshine  had  the  burnished  fullness  of 
post-meridian  lustre,  mellow,  and  all  unlike  the  keen, 
matutinal  glitter  of  earlier  day ;  but  purple  shadows  en- 
circled the  cove,  and  ever  and  anon  a  shining  curve  was 
described  on  the  mountain  side  as  the  wings  of  a  home- 
ward-bound bird  caught  the  light.  Sometimes  the  low 
of  cattle  rose  on  the  air.  The  beef,  as  the  young  ox  was 
prematurely  called,  lifted  his  head,  listening.  He  stood, 
the  rope  about  his  neck,  secured  to  a  hitching-post  near 
the  mill,  looking  calmly  upon  the  ceremonies  that  sealed 
his  destiny.  It  is  to  be  hoped,  in  view  of  the  pangs  of 
prescience,  that  the  animal's  deductive  capacities  and 
prophetic  instincts  are  not  underrated,  or  the  poor  beef's 
presence  at  the  shooting-match  might  express  the  acme 
of  anguished  despair.  "He  was  an  amiable  brute,  and 
lent  himself  passively  to  the  curiosity  of  'Gustus  Tom, 
who  came  up  more  than  once,  gazed  fixedly  at  him,  and 
examined  his  horns  and  hoofs,  his  eyes  and  nozzle,  doubt- 
less verifying  some  preconceptions  as  to  facts  in  natural 
history. 


32  /#  THE   CLOUDS. 

The  young  mountaineers  seemed  to  shoot  with  start- 
ling rapidity.  Only  one  green  hand  labored  under  the 
delusion  that  a  long  aim  can  do  aught  but  "  wobble  the 
eyes."  As  each  flung  himself  prostrate,  with  a  grave  in- 
tentness  of  expression  and  a  certain  precipitancy  of  ges- 
ture, it  might  have  seemed  some  strange  act  of  worship, 
but  for  the  gun  resting  upon  a  log  placed  for  the  purpose, 
sixty  yards  from  the  mark,  —  the  customary  distance  in 
shooting-matches  with  the  old-fashioned  rifle,  —  and  the 
sudden  sharp  crack  of  the  report.  Their  marksman- 
ship was  so  nearly  equal  that  it  became  readily  appar- 
ent that  the  office  of  the  anxious-eyed  judges  was  not 
an  enviable  honor.  Occasionally  disputes  arose,  and 
the  antagonists  gathered  around* the  tree,  examining  the 
targets  with  vociferous  gesticulation  which  often  prom- 
ised to  end  in  cuffs.  Once  the  two  judges  disagreed, 
when  it  became  necessary  to  call  in  an  impartial lk  thirds- 
man  "  and  submit  the  question.  The  old  miller,  placid 
once  more,  accepted  the  trust,  decided  judiciously,  and 
the  match  proceeded. 

Mink's  turn  came  presently. 

As  he  ran  deftly  in  and  out  among  the  heavy  young 
mountaineers,  he  seemed  more  than  ever  like  some  grace- 
ful wild  animal,  with  such  elastic  lightness,  such  reserve 
of  strength,  such  keen  endowment  of  instinct.  He  ar- 
ranged in  its  place  his  board,  previously  blackened  with 
moistened  powder,  and  marked  with  a  cross  drawn  on  it 
with  a  knife-blade ;  each  contestant  had  brought  a  pre- 
cisely similar  target.  Then,  to  distinguish  the  centre  at 
sixty  yards  he  carefully  affixed  a  triangular  piece  of 
white  paper,  so  that  it  touched  the  cross  at  the  intersec- 
tion of  the  lines.  As  he  ran  lightly  back  to  the  log  and 
flung  himself  upon  the  ground,  his  swift  movement  and 
his  lithe  posture  struck  the  attention  of  one  of  the  men. 

"  Now,  ain't  ye  the  livin'  image  o'  a  mink  !  Ye  've 
got  nuthin'  ter  do  but  ter  crope  under  that  thar  log,  like 
thar  war  a  hen  hidin'  thar,  'an'  ye  war  try  in'  ter  git  it  by 
the  throat." 

Mink  cast  his  bright  eyes  upward.     "  Ye  shet  up  !  "  he 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  33 

exclaimed.     Then  he  placed  his  rifle   on  the  log  and 
aimed  in  a  twinkling,  —  his  finger  was  on  the  trigger. 

At  this  moment  'Gustus  Tom,  in  his  overwhelming  cu- 
riosity, contrived  to  get  his  small  anatomy  between  the 
marksman  and  the  tree.  The  jet  of  red  light  leaped  out, 
the  funnel-shaped  smoke  diffused  itself  in  a  formless 
cloud,  and  the  ball  whizzed  close  by  the  boy's  head. 

There  ensued  a  chorus  of  exclamation.  The  old  man 
quavered  out  piteously.  Mink,  dropping  the  rifle  to  the 
ground,  leaped  up,  seized  the  small  boy  by  the  nape  of 
the  neck,  and  deposited  him  \vrith  a  shake  in  the  bosom 
of  his  aged  relative. 

"  Ye  limb  o'  Satan,  'Gustus  Tom  !  "  cried  out  the  old 
man.  "  Ain't  ye  got  no  better  sense  'n  ter  go  out  fur  a 
evenin'  walk  'twixt  that  thar  tree  an'  these  hyar  boys,  ez 
could  n't  begin  ter  shoot  agin  me  an'  my  mates  when  I 
shot  for  beef  whenst  1  war  young  ?  A-many-a-time  I  hev 
fired  the  five  bes'  shots  myself,  an'  won  all  the  five 
ch'ices  o'  the  beef,  an'  jes'  druv  the  critter  home,  —  won 
it  all !  But  these  hyar  fool  boys  jes'  ez  soon  bang  yer 
head  off  ez  hit  the  mark.  Ye  g'  long  'fore  I  skeer  the 
life  out'n  ye  !  " 

And  'Gustus  Tom,  in  the  unbridled  pride  of  favoritism 
and  with  the  fear  of  no  man  before  his  eyes,  went  along 
as  far  as  the  front  rank  of  the  crowd,  continuing  a  fervid 
spectator  of  the  sport. 

The  agitation  of  the  moment  had  impaired  to  a  slight 
degree  Mink's  aim.  The  shot  was,  however,  one  of  the 
best  yet  made,  and  there  was  a  clamor  of  negation  when 
he  insisted  that  he  ought  to  have  it  over.  The  judges 
ruled  against  him  and  the  sport  proceeded. 

As  Rood  made  his  last  shot,  his  strongly  marked  dark 
face  was  lighted  with  a  keen  elation.  Although,  accord- 
ing to  strictest  construction,  the  ball  had  not  penetrated 
the  centre,  it  was  within  a  hair's  breadth  of  it,  and  it 
was  so  unlikely  that  it  would  be  surpassed  that  he  tasted 
all  the  assured  triumphs  of  victory  before  the  battle  was 
won. 

With  Mink's  second  shot  arose  the  great  dispute  of 


34  IN   THE   CLOUDS. 

the  day.  Like  Rood's,  it  was  not  fairly  in  the  bull's-eye, 
if  the  point  of  intersection  might  be  so  called,  but  it  too 
lacked  only  a  hair's  breadth.  Mink  was  willing  enough 
for  a  new  trial,  but  Rood,  protesting,  stood  upon  his 
rights.  The  judges  consulted  together  apart,  reexamined 
the  boards,  finally  announced  their  incapacity  to  decide, 
and  called  in  the  "  thirdsman." 

Mink  made  no  objection  when  the  miller,  as  referee, 
came  to  look  at  the  board.  He,  too,  examined  it  closely, 
holding  his  big  hat  in  his  hand  that  it  might  cast  no 
shadow.  There  was  no  perceptible  difference  in  the 
value  of  the  two  shots.  Mink  hardly  believed  he  had 
heard  aright  when  the  "thirdsman,"  with  scarcely  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation,  declared  there  was  no  doubt  about  the 
matter.  Rood's  shot  was  the  fairer.  "  I  could  draw  a 
line  'twixt  Mink's  and  the  centre." 

There  was  a  yell  of  derision  from  the  young  fellows. 
Rood  wore  a  provoking  sneer.  Mink  stood  staring. 

"  Look-a-hyar,"  he  said  roughly,  "  ye  haffen-blind  old 
ovrelf  Ye  can't  tell  the  differ  'twixt  them  shots.  It's 
a  tie." 

"  Rood's  air  the  closest,  an'  he  gits  the  fust  ch'ice  o' 
beef !  "  said  the  old  man,  his  white  beard  and  mustache 
yawning  with  his  toothless  laugh.  "  Ai-yi !  Mink,  ye 
ain't  so  powerful  minkish  vit  ez  ter  git  the  fust  ch'ice  o' 
beef." 

"  Ye  '11  hev  the  second  ch'ice,  Mink,"  said  Price  con- 
solingly. He  himself,  the  fourth  best  shot,  had  the 
fourth  choice. 

"  I  won't  hev  the  second  ch'ice !  "  exclaimed  Mink. 
"  It 's  nobody  but  that  thar  weezened  old  critter  ez  'lows 
I  oughter.  Fust  he  sent  his  gran' son,  that  thar  slack- 
twisted  'Gustus  Tom,  ter  git  in  my  aim,  —  wisht  I  hed 
shot  him  !  An'  then,  when  I  lets  him  be  thurdsman,  he 
air  jes'  so  durned  m'licious  he  don't  even  stop  an'  take  a 
minit  ter  decide."  Mink's  heart  was  hot.  He  had  been 
wounded  in  his  most  vulnerable  susceptibility,  his  pride 
in  his  marksmanship. 

"  Look-a-hyar,  Mink !  "  remonstrated  Price,  "  ye  ain't 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  35 

a-goin'  off  'fore  the  beef  's  been  butchered  an'  ye  git  the 
second  ch'ice.  Stop  !  Hold  on  !  " 

For  Mink  was  about  to  mount. 

"I  don't  want  no  beef,"  he  said.  "I  hevbeen  cheated 
'mongst  ye.  I  won  the  fust  ch'ice,  an'  I  won't  put  up 
with  the  second." 

Price  was  nonplused  for  a  moment ;  then  he  evolved 
a  solution.  "  I  '11  sell  it,  Mink,"  he  cried,  "  an'  bring  ye 
the  money  !  An'  don't  ye  furgit  old  Tobias  Winkeye," 
he  added  beguiling-ly. 

"Who's  old  Tobias  Winkeye?"  asked  the  miller 
tartly. 

Price  laughed,  sticking  his  hands  in  the  pockets  of  his 
jeans  trousers,  and  looked  around,  winking  at  the  others 
with  a  jocosity  enfeebled  somewhat  by  his  light  sparse 
lashes.  "  Jes'  a  man  ez  hev  got  a  job  fur  Mink,"  he 
said,  enigmatically. 

The  old  miller,  baffled,  and  apprehending  the  mock- 
ery, laughed  loud  and  aggressively,  his  white  beard 
shaking,  his  bushy  eyebrows  overhanging  his  twinkling 
eyes. 

"  Hed  n't  ye  better  bust  the  mill  down,  Mink  ?  "  he 
said  floutingly. 

"I  will, — see  ef  I  don't!"  Mink  retorted,  as  he 
wheeled  his  mare. 

Only  idle  wrath,  an  idle  threat,  void  of  even  the 
vaguest  intention.  They  all  knew  that  at  the  time.  But 
the  significance  of  the  scene  was  altered  in  the  light  of 
after  events. 

Mink's  fate  had  mounted  with  him,  and  the  mare  car- 
ried double  as  he  rode  out  of  Piomingo  Cove. 


m. 

THE  iterative  echoes  of  the  shooting-match,  sharply 
jarring  from  mountain  to  mountain,  from  crag  to  crag, 
evoked  a  faint  reverberation  even  in  the  distant  recesses 
of  Wild-Cat  Hollow.  Alethea  Sayles,  sitting  at  her  loom 
on  the  porch  of  the  little  log  cabin,  paused,  the  shuttle 
motionless  in  her  deft  hand,  to  listen. 

All  aloof  from  the  world  was  Wild- Cat  Hollow,  ajim- 
ited  depression,  high  up  on  the  vast  slope  of  the  Great 
Smoky.  It  might  have  seemed  some  secret  nook,  some 
guarded  fastness,  so  closely  did  the  primeval  wilderness 
encompass  it,  so  jealously  did  the  ridgy  steeps  rise  about 
it  on  every  hand.  It  was  invisible  from  the  valley  be- 
low, perhaps  too  from  the  heights  above.  And  only  a 
glimpse  was  vouchsafed  to  it  of  the  world  from  which  it 
was  sequestered  :  beyond  a  field,  in  a  gap  of  the  minor 
ridges  superimposed  upon  the  mountain,  where  the  dead 
and  girdled  trees  stood  in  spectral  ranks  among  the  wav- 
ing corn,  might  be  seen  a  strip  of  woods  in  the  cove  be- 
low, a  glint  of  water,  a  stately  file  of  lofty  peaks  vanish- 
ing along  the  narrow  skyey  vista.  Sunrise  and  sunset, 
—  the  Hollow  knew  them  not:  a  distant  mountain  might 
flare  with  a  fantasy  of  color,  a  star  of  abnormal  glister 
might  palpitate  with  some  fine  supernal  thrill  of  dawn  ; 
but  for  all  else,  it  only  knew  that  the  night  came  early 
and  the  day  broke  late,  and  in  .many  ways  it  had  meagre 
part  in  the  common  lot. 

The  little  log  cabin,  set  among  its  scanty  fields,  its 
weed-grown  "  gyarden  spot,"  and  its  few  fruit-trees,  was 
poor  of  its  kind.  The  clapboards  of  its  roof  were  held 
in  place  by  poles  laid  athwart  them,  with  large  stones 
piled  between  to  weight  them  down.  The  chimney  was 
of  clay  and  sticks,  and  leaned  away  from  the  wall.  In 


/AT  THE   CLOUDS.  37 

a  corner  of  the  rickety  rail  fence  a  gaunt,  razor-backed 
hog  lay  grunting  drowsily.  Upon  a  rude  scaffold  to- 
bacco leaves  were  suspended  to  dry.  Even  the  martin- 
house  was  humble  and  primitive  :  merely  a  post  with  a 
cross-bar,  from  which  hung  a  few  large  gourds  with  a 
cavity  in  each,  whence  the  birds  were  continually  flutter- 
ing. Behind  it  all,  the  woods  of  the  steep  ascent  seemed 
to  touch  the  sky.  The  place  might  give  a  new  meaning 
to  exile,  a  new  sentiment  to  loneliness. 

Seldom  it  heard  from  the  world,  —  so  seldom  that 
when  the  faint  rifle-shots  sounded  in  the  distance  a  voice 
from  within  demanded  eagerly,  "  What  on  yearth  be 
that,  Lethe  ?  " 

"  Shootin'  fur  beef,  down  in  the  cove,  I  reckon,  from 
thar  firin'  so  constant,"  drawled  Alethea. 

"  Ye  dunno,"  said  the  unseen,  unexpectedly,  derisive 
of  this  conjecture.  "  They  mought  be  a-firin'  thar  bul- 
lets inter  each  other.  Nobody  kin  count  on  a  man  by 
hisself,  but  a  man  in  company  with  a  rifle  air  jes'  a  out- 
dacious,  jubious  critter." 

Alethea  looked  speculatively  down  at  the  limited  sec- 
tion of  the  cove  visible  from  the  Hollow  above.  Her 
hazel  eyes  were  bright,  but  singularly  grave.  The  soft 
sheen  of  her  yellow  hair  served  to  definitely  outline  the 
shape  of  her  head  against  the  brown  logs  of  the  wall. 
The  locks  lay  not  in  ripples,  but  in  massive  undulations, 
densely  growing  above  her  forehead,  and  drawn  in  heavy 
folds  into  a  knot  at  the  back  of  her  head.  She  had  the 
delicate  complexion  and  the  straight,  refined  lineaments 
so  incongruous  with  the  poverty-stricken  mountaineer,  so 
commonly  seen  among  the  class.  Her  homespun  dress 
was  of  a  dull  brown.  About  her  throat,  of  exquisite 
whiteness,  was  knotted  a  kerchief  of  the  deepest  saffron 
tint.  Her  hands  and  arms  —  for  her  sleeves  were  rolled 
back  —  were  shapely,  but  rough  and  sun-embrowned. 
She  had  a  deliberate,  serious  manner  that  very  nearly 
approached  dignity. 

"  I  hopes  they  ain't,"  she  said,  still  listening.  "  I 
hopes  they  ain't  a-shootin'  of  one  another." 


38  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  Waal,  I  'm  a-thinkin'  the  lead  would  n't  be  wasted  on 
some  of  'em,"  said  the  acrid  voice.  "Piomingo  Cove 
could  make  out  mighty  well  'thout  some  o'  them  boys  ez 
rip  an'  rear  aroun'  down  thar  ez  a  constancy.  I  dunno 
ez  I  'd  feel  called  on  ter  mourn  fur  Mink  Lorey  enny. 
An'  I  reckon  the  cove  could  spare  him." 

Looking  through  the  window  close  by  the  bench  of  the 
loom,  Alethea  could  see  the  interior  of  the  room,  rudely 
furnished  and  with  the  perennial  fire  of  the  wide  chim- 
ney-place slowly  smouldering  in  a  bed  of  ashes.  A  half- 
grown  Shanghai  pullet  was  pecking  about  the  big  flat 
stones  of  the  hearth  in  a  premature  and  unprescient  prox- 
imity to  the  pot.  There  were  two  bedsteads  of  a  lofty 
build,  the  thick  feather  beds  draped  with  quilts  of  such 
astounding  variety  of  color  as  might  have  abashed  the 
designers  of  Joseph's  coat.  The  scrupulous  cleanliness 
and  orderliness  of  the  place  were  as  marked  a  character- 
istic as  its  poverty. 

A  sharp-featured  woman  of  fifty  sat  in  a  low  chair  by 
the  fire,  wearing  a  blue-checked  homespun  dress,  a  pink 
calico  sun-bonnet,  and  a  cob-pipe,  —  the  last  was  so  con- 
stantly sported  that  it  might  be  reckoned  an  article  of 
attire.  She  was  not  so  old  as  she  seemed,  but  the  loss 
of  her  teeth  and  her  habit  of  crouching  over  the  fire 
gave  her  a  cronish  aspect. 

Alethea  hesitated.  Then,  with  a  deprecatory  manner, 
she  said  in  her  soft  contralto  drawl,  "He  ain't  down 
'mongst  the  boys  in  Piomingo  Cove  none." 

Mrs.  Sayles  sneered.     "  Ye  b'lieve  that  ?  " 

"  He  be  a-herdin'  cattle  along  o'  Ben  Doaks  on  Pio- 
mingo Bald." 

Mrs.  Sayles  looked  at  her  step-daughter  and  puffed  a 
copious  wreath  of  smoke  for  reply. 

"  Reuben  tole  me  that  hisself,  —  an'  so  did  Ben  Doaks," 
persisted  Alethea. 

"  Mink,  I  calls  him,  an'  nuthin'  shorter,"  said  Mrs. 
Sayles,  obdurately,  —  as  if  anything  could  be  shorter. 
"  But  ef  Ben  Doaks  gin  the  same  word,  it  mus'  be  a  true 
one." 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  39 

Alethea  flushed.  "  I  know  ye  air  sot  agin  Reuben,  but 
I  'd  believe  his  word  agin  enny  other  critter's  in  the 
mountings." 

"  Set  a  heap  o'  store  on  him,  don't  ye  ?  "  said  Mrs. 
Sayles,  sarcastically.  "  An'  when  he  kem  a-courtin'  ye, 
an'  'peared  crazy  'bout'n  ye,  an'  ye  an'  him  war  promised 
ter  marry,  ye  could  n't  quit  jowin'  at  him  fur  one  minit. 
Ye  plumb  beset  him  ter  do  like  ye  thought  war  right,  — 
ez  el  he  hed  no  mo'  conscience  o'  his  own  'n  that  pullet 
thar,  an'  hed  n't  never  hearn  on  salvation.  An'  ye  'd 
beg  an'  beg  him  ter  quit  consortin'  with  the  moonshiners ; 
an'  a-drinkin'  o'  apple-jack  an'  sech  ;  an'  a-rollickin'  round 
the  kentry  ;  an'  layin'  folkses  fences  down  on  the  grouii' ; 
an'  liftin'  thar  gates  off  'n  the  hinges ;  an'  ketchin'  thar 
geese,  an'  pickin'  'em,  an'  scatterin'  thar  feathers  in  the 
wind,  an'  sendin'  'em  squawkin'  home ;  an'  a  -  playin* 
kyerds;  an'  a-whoopin',  an'  ridin',  an'  racin'.  An'  ye 
war  always  a-preachin'  at  him,  an'  try  in'  ter  straighten 
him  out,  an'  make  him  suthin'  he  war  never  born  ter 
be." 

Her  pipe  was  smoked  out.  She  drew  from  her  pocket 
a  fragment  of  tobacco  leaf,  which  was  apparently  not 
sufficiently  cured  for  satisfactory  smoking,  for  she  laid  it 
on  the  hot  ashes  on  the  hearth  and  watched  it  as  it  dried, 
her  meditative  eyes  shaded  by  her  pink  calico  sun-bonnet. 

"  Naw,  sir !  "  she  continued,  as  she  crumpled  the  bit  of 
leaf  with  her  fingers  and  crowded  it  into  the  bowl  of  her 
pipe,  "  I  hev  never  liked  Mink.  I  ain't  denyin'  it,  nuther. 
I  ain't  gamesome  enough  ter  git  tuk  up  with  sech  ways 
ez  his'n.  Mighty  few  folks  air !  But  I  could  see  reason 
in  the  critter  when  he  'lowed  one  day,  right  hyar  by  this 
very  chimbly-place,  —  he  sez,  sez  he,  '  Lethe,  ye  don't 
like  nuthin'  I  do  or  say,  an'  I  'm  durned  ef  I  kin  see  how 
ye  like  me!  ' ' 

Alethea's  serious,  lustrous  eyes,  looking  in  at  the  win- 
dow, saw  not  the  uncouth  interior  of  her  home,  —  no ! 
As  in  a  vision,  irradiated  by  some  enchantment,  she  be- 
held the  glamours  of  the  idyllic  past,  fluctuating,  waning. 


40  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

Even  to  herself  it  sometimes  seemed  that  she  might 
have  been  content  more  lightly.  Her  imbuement  with 
those  practical  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  the  religion  of 
deeds  rather  than  the  futilely  pious  fervors  of  the  igno- 
rant mountaineers  in  which  creed  and  act  were  often 
widely  at  variance,  was  as  mysterious  an  endowment  as 
the  polarity  of  the  loadstone.  She  was  not  introspective, 
however  ;  she  never  even  wondered  that  she  should  speak 
openly,  without  fear  or  favor,  as  she  felt  impelled.  Had 
she  lived  in  an  age  when  every  inward  monition  was  es- 
teemed the  voice  of  the  Lord,  she  might  have  fancied 
that  she  was  called  to  warn  the  world  of  the  errors  of  its 
ways.  Her  sedulous  conscience,  the  austere  gravity  of 
her  spirit,  her  courage,  her  steadfastness,  her  fine  intelli- 
gence, even  her  obdurate  self-will,  might  all  have  had 
assertive  values  in  those  long  bygone  days.  As  an  his- 
toric woman,  she  might  have  founded  an  order,  or  juggled 
with  state-craft,  or  perished  a  martyr,  or  rode,  enthusiast, 
in  the  ranks  of  battle.  By  centuries  belated  in  Wild-Cat 
Hollow,  she  was  known  as  a  "perverted,  cross-grained 
gal "  and  "  a  meddlin'  body,"  and  the  "'  widder  Jessup  " 
had  much  sympathy  for  having  in  a  misguided  moment 
married  Alethea's  father.  Sometimes  the  Hollow,  dis- 
torted though  its  conscience  was,  experienced  a  sort  of 
affright  to  recognize  its  misdeeds  in  her  curt  phrase.  It 
could  only  ask  in  retort  who  set  her  up  to  judge  of  her 
elders,  and  regain  its  wonted  self-complacency  as  best  it 
might.  Even  her  own  ascetic  rectitude  lacked  some 
quality  to  commend  it. 

"  I  can't  find  no  reg'lar  fault  with  Lethe,"  her  step- 
mother was  wont  to  say,  u  'ceptin'  she  's  jes'  —  Lethe." 

Mrs.  Sayles's  voice,  pursuing  the  subject,  recalled  the 
girl's  attention :  — 

"  An'  ye  tired  his  patience  out,  —  the  critter  hed  mo'  'n 
I  gin  him  credit  fur,  —  an'  druv  him  off  at  last  through 
wantin'  him  ter  be  otherwise.  An'  now  folks  'low  ez  him 
an'  Elviry  Crosby  air  a-goin'  ter  marry.  I  '11  be  bound 
she  don't  harry  him  none  'bout'n  his  ways,  'kase  her 
mother  tole  me  ez  she  air  mighty  nigh  a  idjit  'bout'n 


7.V   THE    CLOUDS.  41 

him,  an'  hev  turned  off  Peter  Rood,  who  she  hed  prom- 
ised ter  marry,  though  the  weddin'  day  hed  been  set,  an' 
Pete  air  wuth  forty  sech  ez  Mink." 

Alethea  turned  away  abruptly  to  her  work,  and  as  she 
lightly  tossed  the  shuttle  to  and  fro  she  heard,  amidst  the 
creaking  of  the  treadle  and  the  thumping  of  the  batten, 
her  step-mother's  persistent  voice  droning  on :  — 

"  An'  so  ye  hed  yer  say,  an'  done  yer  preachin',  an'  he 
profited  by  it.  I  reckon  he  'lowed  ef  ye  jawed  that-a-way 
afore  ye  war  married,  thar  war  no  yearthly  tellin'  what 
ye  could  say  arterward.  An'  now,"  rising  to  the  dra- 
matic, "  hyar  kerns  along  Ben  Doaks,  powerful  peart 
an'  good  enough  ter  sati'fy  ennybody ;  perlite,  an'  saaft- 
spoken,  an'  good-lookin',  an'  respected  by  all,  an'  ready 
ter  marry  ye  ter-morrer,  ef  ye  '11  say  the  word.  He  owns 
cattle-critters  "  — 

"  An'  sheep,"  put  in  an  unexpected  voice.  A  dawdling 
young  woman,  with  a  shallow  blue  eye  and  a  pretty,  inane 
soft  face,  had  stepped  into  the  back  door,  and  heard  the 
last  words  of  the  monologue  which  apparently  had  been 
often  enough  repeated  to  admit  of  no  doubt  as  to  its 
tenor.  She  had  a  slatternly,  ill-adjusted  look,  and  a 
snuff-brush  in  the  corner  of  her  mouth. 

"  An'  herds  cattle  in  the  summer  season,"  said  Mrs. 
Sayles. 

"  He  hev  a  good  name  'mongst  the  cattle-owners,"  ob- 
served the  young  woman,  her  daughter-in-law. 

"  An'  hev  bought  him  right  smart  land,"  added  Mrs. 
Sayles. 

"  Down  in  Piomingo  Cove !  not  h'isted  up  on  the  side 
o'  the  mounting,  like  we-uns  !  "  exclaimed  the  young 
woman,  with  more  enthusiasm  than  one  would  have  be- 
lieved possible  from  the  flaccid  indifference  of  her  man- 
ner. 

uAn'  he  put  in  all  the  fair  weather  las'  winter  a-raisin' 
him  a  house,"  Mrs.  Sayles  pursued. 

"  An'  he  'lowed  ter  me  ez  every  log  war  hefted,  an' 
every  pat  o'  clay  war  daubed  on  the  chinkin',  with  the 
thought  o'  Lethe  !  "  cried  the  other. 


42  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  He  hev  been  plantin'  round  thar  some,  a'ready," 
said  the  old  woman. 

"  Corn,  pumpkins,  wheat,  an'  terbacco,"  supplemented 
the  daughter-in-law. 

"An'  he  hev  got  him  some  bee-gums,  —  I  never  hearn 
how  many  bees,"  said  Mrs.  Sayles. 

"  Down  in  Piomingo  Cove  !  "  the  climax  of  worldly 
prosperity. 

"  Laws-a-massy  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Sayles,  with  a 
freshened  realization  of  despair.  "Lethe  ain't  never 
goin'  ter  live  in  that  house !  I  dunno  what  ails  the  gal ! 
She  takes  a  notion  ez  she  likes  a  man  with  sech  ways  ez 
she  can't  abide,  an'  she  quar'ls  with  him  mornin'  an' 
evenin'.  An'  then  when  a  feller  kerns  along,  with  all 
sort'n  good  ways  ez  she  likes,  she  don't  like  him  !  Gals 
never  acted  similar  whenst  I  war  young.  I  'low  it  mus' 
be  the  wiles  o'  Satan  on  the  onruly  generation." 

"  Lethe  'pears  ter  think  the  Lord  hev  app'inted  the 
rocky  way,"  said  the  other.  "  She  be  always  a-doin'  of 
what 's  the  hardest.  An'  she  can't  quit  nowhar  this  side 
o'  nuthin' !  Ef  ever  she  's  condemned  ter  Torment  she  '11 
kerry  a  leetle  kindlin'  along,  fur  fear  the  fire  won't  be 
het  up  hot  enough  ter  burn  her  fur  her  sins." 

She  was  silent  during  a  momentary  activity  of  the 
snuff-brush. 

"  But  ef  I  war  you-uns,  Lethe,  an'  bed  the  chance  o' 
livin'  in  my  own  house  all  ter  myself  "  —  she  began 
anew. 

"  Plenty  o'  elbow-room,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Sayles  ; 
"  not  all  jammed  tergether,  like  we-uns  hyar." 

Alethea,  aware  of  her  lack  of  logic,  made  an  effort  to 
effect  a  diversion. 

"  I  never  hearn  o'  folks  a-grudgin'  a  gal  house-room, 
an'  wan  tin'  her  ter  go  off  an'  marry  fur  a  place  ter  bide," 
she  said,  pausing  in  her  weaving. 

Mrs.  Sayles,  who  piqued  herself,  not  without  some 
reason,  on  her  kindness  to  her  step-daughter,  having  her 
prosaic  welfare,  at  least,  at  heart,  retorted  in  righteous 
wrath.  "An'  nobody  ain't  never  said  no  sech  word," 


7^V  THE   CLOUDS.  43 

she   declared,    with   amplest   negation.     "Grudgin'    ye 
house-room,  —  shucks  !  " 

"  One  less  would  n't  be  no  improve  wm£  ter  we-uns, 
Lethe,"  said  the  daughter-in-law.  "  We  air  jes'  like  a 
hen  settin'  on  forty  aigs :  she  kin  kiver  'em  ez  well  ez 
thirty-nine." 

"  But  I  ain't  got  no  medjure  o'  patience  with  this  lat- 
ter-day foolishness!"  said  Mrs.  Sayles,  tartly.  "Whenst 
I  war  young,  gals  married  thar  fust  chance,  —  mought 
hev  been  afeard  they  'd  never  git  another,"  she  added, 
impersonally,  that  others  might  profit  by  this  contin- 
gency. "  An'  I  don't  keer  much  nohow  fur  these  hyar 
lonesome  single  wimmen.  Ye  never  kin  git  folks  ter 
b'lieve  ez  they  ever  lied  enny  chance." 

"  Laws-a-massy,  Lethe,"  the  daughter-in-law  reassured 
her,  still  vaguely  serene,  "  I  ain't  wantin'  ter  git  shet  o' 
ye,  nohow.  Ye  hev  tuk  mo'  keer  o'  my  chill'n  than  I 
hev,  an'  holped  me  powerful.  It 's  well  ye  done  it,  too, 
fur  Jacob  Jessup  ain't  sech  ez  kin  content  me  with  Wild- 
Cat  Hollow.  I  war  raised  in  the  cove  !  " 

"  Thar  's  L'onidas  now,  axin'  fur  suthin'  ter  eat,"  said 
the  uncompromising  Alethea,  whose  voice  was  the  slogan 
of  duty. 

The  loom  occupied  a  full  third  of  the  space  on  the 
little  porch ;  two  or  three  rickety  chairs  stood  there,  be- 
sides ;  a  yoke  hung  against  the  wall ;  the  spinning-wheel 
was  shadowed  by  the  jack-bean  vines,  whose  delicate  li- 
lac blooms  embellished  the  little  cabin,  clambering  to  its 
roof ;  on  the  floor  were  several  splint  baskets.  A  man 
was  languidly  filling  them  with  peaches,  which  he 
brought  in  a  wheel-barrow  from  the  trees  farther  down 
on  the  slope.  He  was  tall  and  stalwart,  but  his  beard 
was  gray,  and  he  had  assumed  the  manner  and  all  the 
exemptions  of  extreme  age  ;  occasionally  he  did  a  little 
job  like  this  with  an  air  of  laborious  precision.  He  was 
accompanied  both  in  going  and  coming  by  his  step-son's 
daughter,  a  tow-headed,  six-year-old  girl,  and  a  gaunt 
yellow  dog.  The  little  girl's  voice,  dictatorial  and  shrill, 
was  on  the  air  continuously,  broken  only  by  the  low,  ac- 


44  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

quiescent  refrain  of  the  old  man's  replies,  carefully  ad- 
justed to  meet  her  propositions.  The  dog  paced  silently 
and  discreetly  along,  his  appreciation  of  the  placid  pleas- 
ure of  the  occasion  plainly  manifested  in  his  quiet  de- 
meanor and  his  slightly  wagging  tail.  His  decorum 
suffered  a  lapse  when,  as  they  came  close  to  the  porch, 
he  observed  Leonidas  issue  from  the  door,  —  a  small 
boy  of  four,  a  plump  little  caricature  of  a  man,  in  blue 
cotton  trousers,  an  unbleached  cotton  shirt,  and  a  laugh- 
ably small  pair  of  knitted  suspenders.  He  held  in  his 
hand  a  piece  of  fat  meat  several  inches  square,  consid- 
ered in  the  mountains  peculiarly  wholesome  for  small 
boys,  and  a  reliable  assistant  in  **  gittin'  yer  growth." 

Tige  paused  not  for  reflection.  He  sprang  upon  the 
porch,  capering  gleefully  about,  and  uttering  shrill  yelps 
of  discovery  with  much  his  triumphant  manner  in  tree- 
ing a  coon.  Leonidas  shared  the  common  human  weak- 
ness of  overestimating  one's  own  size.  He  thought  to 
hold  the  booty  out  of  Tige's  reach,  and  extended  his  arm 
at  full  length,  whereupon  the  dog,  with  an  elastic  bound 
and  extreme  nicety  of  aim,  caught  it  and  swallowed  it 
at  a  single  gulp.  Leonidas  winked  very  fast ;  then,  re- 
alizing his  bereavement,  burst  into  noisy  tears.  Tige's 
facetiousness  had  a  discordantly  sudden  contrast  in  the 
serious  howl  he  emitted  as  he  was  kicked  off  the  porch 
by  the  child's  father.  This  was  an  unkempt  young  fel- 
low just  emerging  from  the  shed-room.  He  had  a  red 
face  and  swollen  eyes,  and  there  were  various  drowsy 
intimations  in  his  manner  that  he  was  just  roused  from 
sleep.  No  natural  slumber,  one  might  have  judged ;  the 
odor  of  whiskey  still  hung  about  him,  and  he  walked 
with  an  unsteady  gait  to  the  end  of  the  porch  and  sat 
down  on  the  edge  of  the  floor,  his  feet  dangling  over  the 
ground.  Tige,  who  had  sought  refuge  beneath  the  house, 
and  was  giving  vent  to  sundry  sobbing  wheezes,  thrust 
his  head  out  to  lick  his  master's  boots.  Upon  this  mol- 
lifying demonstration,  the  man  looked  down  with  the 
lenient  expression  of  one  who  loves  dogs.  "  What  ails 
ye,  then,"  he  reasoned,  "  ter  be  sech  a  fool  as  ter  'low 
ye  kin  be  let  ter  rob  a  child  the  size  o'  L'onidas  thar  ?  " 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  45 

And  forthwith  the  mercurial  Tige  came  out,  cheerful 
as  before. 

In  the  limited  interval  when  Leonidas  —  who  had 
been  supplied  with  another  piece  of  meat,  but  still  wept 
aloud  with  callow  persistence  because  of  the  affronts  of- 
fered by  Tige  —  was  fain  to  pause  for  breath,  and  be- 
tween the  alternate  creaking  of  the  treadle  of  the  loom 
and  the  thumping  of  the  batten,  the  man's  ear  caught 
that  unwonted  stir  in  the  air,  the  sound  of  consecutive 
rifle-shots. 

"  Look-a-hyar,"  he  cried,  springing  to  his  feet,  "  what 's 
that  a-goin'  on  down  in  the  cove  ?  Lethe,  stop  trompin' 
on  that  thar  n'isy  treadle,  so  ez  I  kin  listen !  Quit  yel- 
lin',  ye  catamount !  "  with  a  vengeful  glance  at  the  small 
boy. 

But  the  grief  of  Leonidas  was  imperative,  and  he 
abated  nothing. 

Jacob  Jessup  stood  for  an  instant  baffled.  Then  sud- 
denly he  put  both  hands  to  his  mouth,  and  roused  all  the 
echoes  of  Wild-Cat  Hollow  with  a  ringing  halloo. 

"  Who  be  ye  a-hollerin'  at  ?  "  asked  his  mother  from 
her  nook  in  the  chimney  corner. 

"  I  'lowed  I  viewed  a  man  up  yander  'mongst  them 
woods,  —  mought  be  one  o'  the  herders." 

Alethea's  foot  paused  on  the  treadle.  Her  uplifted 
hand  stayed  the  batten,  the  other  held  the  shuttle  motion- 
less. She  turned  her  head  and  with  a  sudden  rich  flush 
on  her  cheek  and  a  deep  light  in  her  lifted  eyes  looked 
up  toward  the  forests  that  rose  in  vast  array  upon  the 
steep  slopes  of  the  ridge  until  they  touched  the  sky.  Ac- 
customed to  the  dusky  shadows  of  their  long  avenues, 
she  discerned  a  mounted  figure  in  their  midst.  There 
was  a  tense  moment  of  suspense.  The  man  had  'wheeled 
his  horse  on  hearing  the  halloo.  He  seemed  to  hesi- 
tate ;  then  in  lieu  of  response  he  took  his  way  down  the 
hill  toward  the  cabin.  The  trees  were  fewer  on  the  edge 
of  the  clearing.  Before  he  drew  rein  by  the  rail  fence 
she  had  turned  back  to  the  loom,  and  once  more  the 
shuttle  winged  its  short,  clumsy  flights,  like  a  fledgeling 


46  7,V  THE   CLOUDS. 

bird,  from  one  side  to  the  other,  and  the  treadle  creaked, 
and  the  batten  thumped,  and  she  spared  not  an  instant 
from  her  work. 

For  it  was  only  Ben  Doaks  dismounting,  glad  of  a  pre- 
text, throwing  the  reins  over  a  projecting  rail  of  the 
fence,  and  tramping  up  to  the  house. 

"  Howdy,"  he  observed  comprehensively.  And  the 
family,  meditatively  eying  him,  responded,  "Howdy." 

"  Keep  yer  health,  Ben  ?  "  the  old  woman  demanded. 
She  had  come  to  the  door,  and  took  a  gourd  of  water 
from  a  pail  which  was  on  a  shelf  without.  She  drank 
leisurely,  and  tossed  the  surplus  water  from  the  gourd 
across  the  porch,  where  it  spattered  the  half-grown  pul- 
let, which  shunted  off  suddenly  with  a  loud,  shocked  ex- 
clamation, as  if  it  sported  half  a  score  of  ruffled  petti- 
coats. 

"  Yes  'm,"  drawled  Ben,  seating  himself  on  the  edge 
of  the  porch,  near  Jacob,  "  I  keeps  toler'ble  well." 

"  I  dunno  how  ye  do  it,  —  livin'  off'n  what  ye  cooks 
yerse'f."  She  manifested  a  truly  mundane  interest  in 
the  eligible  young  man.  She  did  not  return  to  her  chair 
by  the  fireside,  but  sat  down  on  the  doorstep.  "I'd 
look  ter  be  p'isoned  ef  I  hed  ter  live  on  yer  cookin'." 

"  Waal,  I  reckon  ye  could  n't  put  up  with  it  right 
handy,  seein'  the  sorter  table  ye  set  out  hyar." 

Was  the  old  woman  more  than  human,  to  be  untouched 
by  this  sincere  tribute  ? 

"  Ye  oughter  kem  dowrn  hyar  oftener  ye  do,  Ben,  an' 
bide  ter  meals,"  she  said,  her  spectacles  turned  upon  him 
with  a  certain  grave  luminosity.  "  We  '11  make  ye  pow- 
erful welcome  ter  sech  vittles  ez  we  hev  got.  Ye  ain't 
been  hyar  fur  a  right  smart  time." 

"  I  know  that,  but  somehows  I  never  kin  feel  right 
welcome  comin'  so  often,"  said  Ben.  He  had  leaned 
back  against  the  post  of  the  porch.  He  could  look,  with- 
out moving,  into  Alethea's  grave,  absorbed  face  as  she 
worked. 

"  'Count  o'  Lethe  ?  Shucks  !  thar  ain't  but  one  fool 
hyar.  Mought  kem  ter  see  the  rest  o'  we-uns." 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  47 

Alethea's  face  flushed.  Ben  Doaks,  dismayed  to  be 
the  indirect  occasion  of  her  anger,  and  secretly  affronted 
by  the  breach  of  decorum  which  he  considered  involved 
in  this  open  mention  of  his  bootless  suit,  hastened  ta 
change  the  subject.  "  Did  ye  hev  a  word  ter  say  ter  me, 
Jacob  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Ye  'lowed,  day  'fore  yestiddy,  ye 
wanted  ter  sellryer  steer." 

There  was  now  no  sound  from  the  cove.  The  bur- 
nished glisters  of  the  sunshine  hung  above  it,  holding  in 
suspension  a  gauzy  haze,  through  which  the  purple  moun- 
tains were  glamourous  and  darkly  vague.  Jacob,  his 
senses  yet  in  thrall,  could  hardly  recall  the  question  he 
had  desired  to  ask  concerning  the  rifle-shots  that  had 
trivially  jarred  its  perfect  serenity. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  said  hastily.  "  Buck,  ye  know,"  with 
the  manner  of  introduction.  "  Yander  he  be."  He 
pointed  to  a  gaunt  dun-colored  ox  with  long  horns  and  a 
joyless  mien,  standing  within  a  few  feet  of  a  rude  trough 
which  the  spring  branch  kept  supplied. 

"  Jacob,"  said  Alethea,  turning  her  head  with  a  knitted 
brow,  "  ef  ye  sell  Buck,  how  air  we  goin'  ter  plough  our 
craps  ?  How  air  we  goin'  ter  live  along  ?  " 

"  Laws-a-massy !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Sayles.  "  I  ain't 
s'prised  none  ef  the  man  ez  marries  Lethe  at  last  will 
find  out  he  hev  got  a  turrible  meddler.  She  jes'  ups  an' 
puts  inter  her  elders'  affairs  ez  brash  ez  ef  hern  war 
the  only  brains  in  the  fambly.  Jacob  's  a-savin'  ter  buy 
a  horse,  child.  Yer  dad  lowed  Jacob  mought  use  his 
jedgmint  'bout  all  the  crappin',  bein'  ez  yer  dad  's  old  an' 
ain't  long  fur  this  worl'.  So  Jacob  hev  determinated  ter 
buy  a  horse.  Who  wants  ter  work  a  steer  when  they 
ken  hev  a  horse  ?  " 

Doaks  looked  intently  at  Alethea,  loyally  eager  to 
range  himself  on  her  side.  She  was  oblivious  of  his 
presence  now ;  every  faculty  was  on  the  alert  in  her  sin- 
gle-handed contest  against  the  family. 

"  Whar  's  the  money  he  hev  saved  ?  "  she  demanded. 

Her  step-brother  seemed  frowzier  than  ever,  as  he 
lifted  his  eyebrows  in  vain  cogitation  for  an  answer. 


48  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  Ye  shet  up,"  he  said,  in  triumphant  substitution  ; 
11  ye  ain't  no  kin  ter  me." 

Alethea,  all  lacking  in  the  bland  and  mollifying  femi- 
nine influences  that  subtly  work  their  ends  in  seeming 
submission,  bluntly  spoke  her  inmost  thought : 

"  Ez  long  ez  thar  's  a  moonshine  still  a-runnin'  some- 
whar  round  Piomingo  Cove,  Jacob  ain't  goin'  ter  save  no 
money." 

"  Thar  ain't  no  still  round  hyar  ez  I  knows  on,"  said 
Doaks,  in  surprise.  "  Over  yander  in  Eskaqua  Cove  thar 
air  a  bonded  still,  I  know." 

"  That  bonded  still  hev  ter  sell  wholesale,  hevin'  no  li- 
cense otherwise,"  she  retorted,  "  an'  Jacob  hain't  saved 
enough  yit  ter  buy  by  the  five  gallon.  An'  though  he 
may  'pear  sober  ter  you-uns,  he  don't  ter  me." 

Jacob  bore  her  scathing  glance  with  an  admirable 
equanimity. 

"  Ye  shet  up,  Lethe  ;  ye  dunno  nuthin'  'bout  stills, 
bonded  or  no.  Look-a-hyar,  Ben,  don't  ye  want  ter 
buy  Buck  ?  See  him  thar?  " 

"  I  don't  want  him,"  said  Ben. 

Jacob  turned  fiercely  on  Alethea.  "  Why  n't  ye  hold 
yer  jaw,  ef  ye  know  how ;  ye  have  done  spiled  my  trade. 
Look-a-hyar,  Ben,"  he  said  alluringly,  "it's  this  hyar 
steer,"  —  there  was  but  one,  —  "  this  hyar  steer  ;  he  's 
wuth  money.  I  tell  ye,"  he  vociferated,  with  a  drunken 
wag  of  his  head,  "  Buck  's  a  good  steer.  I  dunno  ef  I 
kin  git  my  cornsent  ter  trade  Buck  off,  no-ways.  Buck 's 
plumb  like  a  member  o'  the  fambly.  I  jtell  ye  we-uns 
fairly  dote  on  Buck." 

"  Waal,  I  don't  want  him.  Older  'n  enny  of  ye,  ain't 
he  ?  "  drawled  Ben.  He  was  not  a  dull  fellow,  and  he 
had  taken  his  cue.  He  would  decry  the  ox  and  forego 
his  bargain,  a  consciously  hopeless  sacrifice  to  his  affec- 
tion. 

Jacob  straightened  himself  with  an  effort,  and  stared 
at  his  interlocutor. 

"  Who  ?  Buck  ?  Why,  Buck  ain't  much  older  than 
L'onidas  thar."  He  waved  his  hand  toward  the  boy, 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  49 

who  had  perched  on  the  bench  of  the  loom  beside  Alethea. 
Now  and  then  she  patted  his  shoulder,  which  effort  at 
consolation  he  received  with  a  distinct  crescendo  ;  he  had 
begun  to  relish  the  sound  of  his  vocal  performance,  evi- 
dently attempting  new  and  bizarre  effects. 

"  L'onidas  air  about  four  year  old,  ain't  he,  Mis'  Jes- 
sup  ?  "  Doaks  asked  of  the  young  matron,  who  seemed 
placidly  regardless  how  the  negotiation  should  termi- 
nate. 

u  I  b'lieve  lie  's  'bout  four,"  she  said,  without  anima- 
tion. 

"  Waal,  he  be  toler'ble  bouncin'  fur  that,"  said  Doaks, 
looking  with  the  eye  of  speculation  at  the  boy,  as  if  he 
were  about  to  offer  a  bid  for  Leonidas,  "  but  I  kin  see  a 
heap  o'  diff'unce  'twixt  his  size  an'  Buck's." 

The  drunken  man  turned  and  stared  at  the  diminutive 
person  on  the  bench.  "  Waal,"  he  said  in  a  low-spirited 
way,  as  if  he  must  yield  the  point,  "  I  never  knowed  ye 
wanted  a  steer  o'  that  size.  Would  n't  be  much  use  ter 
ye.  Our'n  ain't."  v  • 

uHe  'pears  sorter  jubious  in  his  temper.  Does  he 
hook  ?  " 

"  Who  ?  Buck  ?  "  —  with  an  air  of  infinite  amazement. 
"  Why,  Buck  's  ez  saaft  ez  L'onidas  thar."  fc 

As  Leonidas  was  just  now  extremely  loud,  the  com- 
parison was  hardly  felicitous. 

"  I  don't  want  no  work-ox,  nohow,"  said  Doaks.  "  I 
want  cattle  ter  fatten." 

"  Jes'  try  Buck.  He  '11  lay  on  fat  fur  ev'y  ear  o'  corn 
fedded  him.  Ye  dunno  Buck.  He  hain't  laid  on  much 
yit, 'kase,  ye  see,"  —  Jessup's  voice  took  a  confidential 
intonation,  although  it  was  not  lowered  because  of  the 
roaring  Leonidas,  — "  we-uns  ain't  hed  much  corn  ter 
feed  ter  Buck,  bein'  back'ard  las'  year.  The  drought 
cotched  our  late  corn,  an'  SQ  Buck,  though  he  worked  it, 
he  never  got  none  sca'cely.  An'  that 's  why  he  ain't  no 
fatter  'n  he  be." 

Logical  of  Buck,  but  it  availed  him  as  little  as  the  logic 
of  misfortunes  profits  the  rest  of  the  world. 


50  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

Alethea  had  risen  and  turned  half  round,  leaning 
against  the  great  clumsy  frame  of  the  loom.  Her  post- 
ure displayed  her  fine  height ;  her  supple  figure  was 
slight,  as  became  her  age.  but  with  a  suggestion  of  latent 
strength  in  every  curve.  There  was  something  strangely 
inconsistent  in  the  searching,  serious  expression  of  her 
grave  brown  eyes  and  the  lavish  endowment  of  her 
beauty,  which  seemed  as  a  thing  apart  from  her.  Per- 
haps only  Ben  Doaks  noted,  or  rather  felt  in  a  vague, 
unconscious  way,  the  fascination  of  its  detail :  the  lustre 
of  her  dense  yellow  hair  showing  against  the  brown  wall, 
where  a  string  of  red  peppers  hung,  heightening  the  ef- 
fect ;  the  glimpse  of  her  white  throat  under  the  saffron 
kerchief ;  the  lithe  grace  of  her  figure,  about  which  her 
sober-hued  dress  fell  in  straight  folds.  To  the  home- 
folks  she  gave  other  subjects  to  contemplate. 

"  Naw,"  she  drawled,  in  her  soft,  low  voice,  whose  in- 
tonation only  suggested  sarcasm,  "  we  did  n't  plant  much 
o'  nuthin'  las'  year,  —  lied  no  seed  sca'cely,  an'  nuthin' 
ter  trade  fur  'em.  The  plenties'  o'  ennythin'  roun'  hyar- 
abouts  war  bresh  whiskey,  an'  ez  Buck  don't  drink  it  he 
ain't  no  fatter  'n  he  be." 

"Waal,"  said  Doaks,  feeling  all  the  discomforts  inci- 
dent to  witnessing  a  family  row,  incompetent  to  partici- 
pate by  reason  of  non-membership,  " 1  lowed  the  mount- 
ings hed  in  an'  about  done  with  moonshinin',  cornsiderin' 
the  way  the  raiders  kep'  up  with  the  distillers.  It 's  agin 
the  law,  ye  know." 

"  I  ain't  a-keerin'  fur  the  law,"  said  Alethea  loftily. 
"The  law  air  jes'  the  men's  foolishness,  an'  they  air 
a-changin'  of  it  forever  till  't  ain't  got  no  constancy.  Ef 
I  war  minded  ter  break  it  I  'd  feel  no  hendrance  in  the 
sperit." 

Her  eyes  met  his.  He  looked  vaguely  away.  Cer- 
tainly there  was  no  reasoning  on  this  basis. 

":T  ain't  right,"  she  said  suddenly.  "Jacob  sleeps 
an'  drinks  his  time  away,  an'  don't  do  his  sheer  o'  the 
work.  I  done  all  the  ploughin'  this  year,  —  me  an'  Buck, 
—  an'  I  ain't  one  o'  the  kind  ez  puts  up  with  sech.  I 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  51 

ain't  a  Injun  woman,  like  them  at  Quallatown.     Pete 
,  —  he  hev  been  over  thar,  —  he  'lows  the  wimmen 


do  all  the  crappin'  while  the  men  go  huntin'.  I  '11  kerry 
my  e-end  o'  the  log,  but  when  the  t'other  e-end  draps 
'pears  ter  me  I  oughter  drap  mine." 

"What  ye  goin'  ter  do,  Lethe?  "  said  the  old  woman. 
"  Goin'  ter  take  ter  idlin'  an'  drinkin'  bresh  whiskey, 
too  ?  " 

She  laughed,  but  she  sneered  as  well. 

Alethea,  all  unmoved  by  her  ridicule,  drawled  calmly 
on  :  "  I  dunno  nuthin'  'bout  bresh  whiskey,  an'  I  ain't 
idled  none,  ez  the  rest  o'  you-uns  kin  see  ;  but  ef  Jacob 
don't  do  his  stent  nex'  year,  thar  '11  be  less  corn  hyar 
than  this." 

It  was  hard  for  Doaks  to  refrain  from  telling  her  that 
there  was  a  home  ready  for  her,  and  one  to  share  it  who 
would  work  for  both.  Only  futility  restrained  him.  He 
flushed  to  the  roots  of  his  light  brown  hair,  and  as  a  re- 
source he  drew  out  a  clasp-knife  and  absently  whittled  a 
chip  as  he  listened. 

"Waal,  wimmen  hev  ter  holp  men  along  with  thar 
work  wunst  in  a  while,**  said  Mrs.  Sayles  patronizingly. 
"  Ye  '11  find  that  out,  child,  whenst  ye  git  married." 

"  Ef  I  war  married,"  said  Alethea,  severely  contem- 
plating the  possibility,  —  and  Doaks  felt  a  vague  thrill 
of  jealousy,  —  "  I  'd  do  his  work  ef  he  war  ailin'  enny- 
wise,  but  not  ter  leave  him  in  the  enjyement  o'  bresh 
whiskey." 

"Ye  shet  up,  Lethe,"  said  Jacob,  nettled.  "Ye  ain't 
no  kin  ter  me,  —  jes'  a  step-sister,  —  an'  ye  ain't  got  no 
right  ter  jow  at  me.  Ye  dunno  nuthin'  'bout  bresh 
whiskey.  Ye  dunno  whar  it  's  made  nor  who  makes  it." 

"  Ef  I  did  "  —  she  began  abruptly. 

He  looked  up  at  her  with  a  sober  dismay  on  his  face. 

"  Don't  go  ter  'lowin'  ye  'd  gin  the  word  ter  the  reve- 
nuers  ?  "  he  said. 

Mrs.  Sayles  dropped  her  knitting  in  her  lap. 

"  Look-a-hyar,  Lethe,"  she  exclaimed,  "  it  's  ez  much 
ez  yer  life  's  wuth  ter  say  them  words  I  " 


52  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  I  ain't  said  'em,"  declared  Alethea.  She  looked 
vaguely  away  with  absent  eyes,  disregarding  Jacob's 
growling  defense  of  himself,  which  consisted  in  good 
measure  of  animadversions  on  people  who  faulted  their 
elders  and  gals  who  could  n't  hold  their  tongues.  Sud- 
denly she  stepped  from  the  porch. 

"Whar  be  ye  goin',  Lethe  ?  "  demanded  Mrs.  Sayles, 
ruthlessly  interrupting  Jacob's  monologue. 

"  Ter  hunt  up  that  thar  lam',"  replied  Alethea  calmly, 
as  if  nothing  else  had  been  under  discussion.  "I  ain't 
seen  nuthin'  of  it  ter-day,  an'  some  o'  the  chill'n  —  I 
b'lieve  't  war  Joe  —  'lowed  its  dam  war  down  yander 
nigh  Boke's  spring  yestiddy,  actin'  sorter  cur'ous,  an'  I 
reckon  suthin'  's  happened  ter  it." 

Doaks  looked  after  her  as  she  went,  tempted  to  follow. 
She  took  her  way  down  the  path  beside  the  zigzag  rail- 
--fence.  All  the  corners  were  rank  with  wild  flowers,  vines 
and  bushes,  among  which  her  golden  head  showed  from 
time  to  time  as  in  a  wreath.  She  was  soon  without  the 
limits  of  Wild-Cat  Hollow.  More  than  once  she  paused 
as  she  went,  holding  her  hands  above  her  eyes,  and  look- 
ing at  the  vast  array  of  mountains  on  every  side.  A  for- 
eign land  to  her,  removed  even  from  vague  speculation ; 
she  only  saw  how  those  august  summits  lifted  themselves 
into  the  sky,  how  the  clouds,  weary-winged,  were  fain 
to  rest  upon  them.  There  was  a  vague  blurring  at  the 
horizon-line,  for  a  shower  was  succeeded  by  mist.  The 
woods  intervened  presently  ;  the  long  stretches  of  the 
majestic  avenues  lay  before  her,  all  singularly  open, 
cleared  of  undergrowth  by  the  fiery  besom  of  the  annual 
conflagration.  It  was  very  silent  ;  once  only  she  heard 
the  shrill  trilling  of  a  tree-frog ;  and  once  the  insistent 
clamor  of  a  locust  broke  out  close  at  hand,  vibrating 
louder  and  louder  and  dying  away,  to  be  caught  up  anti- 
phonally  in  the  distance.  Often  she  noted  the  light- 
ning-scathed trees,  the  fated  of  the  forest,  writhen  and 
blanched  and  spectral  among  their  flourishing  kindred. 
There  were  presently  visible  at  the  end  of  the  long  leafy 
vista  other  dead  trees  :  their  blight  was  more  prosaic ; 


IN  THE    CLOUDS.  '53 

they  stood  girdled  and  white  in  an  abandoned  field  that 
lay  below  the  slope  on  which  she  had  paused,  and  near 
the  base  of  the  mountain.  A  broken  rotting  rail-fence 
still  encircled  it.  Blackberry  bushes,  broom-Ledge,  a 
tangle  of  weeds,  were  a  travesty  of  its  crops.  A  fox,  a 
swift-scudding  tawny  streak,  sped  across  it  as  she  looked. 
Hard  by  there  was  a  deserted  hut:  the  doors  were 
open,  showing  the  dark  voids  within ;  the  batten  shut- 
ters flapped  with  every  changing  whim  of  the  winds. 
Fine  sport  they  had  often  had,  these  riotous  mountain 
sprites,  shrieking  down  the  chimney  to  affright  the  lone- 
liness ;  then  falling  to  sobs  and  sighs  to  mock  the  voices 
of  those  who  had  known  sorrow  here  and  perhaps  shed 
tears ;  sometimes  wrapping  themselves  in  snow  as  in  a 
garment,  and  reeling  in  fantastic  whirls  through  the  for- 
lorn and  empty  place  ;  sometimes  twitting  the  gaunt  tim- 
bers with  their  infirmities,  and  one  wild  night  wrenching 
off  half  a  dozen  clapboards  from  the  roof  and  scattering 
them  about  the  door.  Thus  the  moon  might  look  in,  see- 
ing no  more  those  whose  eyes  had  once  met  its  beam,  and 
even  the  sunlight  had  melancholy  intimations  when  it 
shone  on  the  forsaken  hearth-stone.  A  screech-owl  had 
found  refuge  among  the  rafters,  and  Alethea  heard  its 
quavering  scream  ending  in  a  low,  sinister  chuckle. 
There  was  a  barn  near  at  hand,  —  a  structure  of  un- 
daubed,  unhewn  logs,  with  a  wide  open  pass-way  below 
the  loft  to  shelter  wagons  and  farm  implements ;  it 
seemed  in  better  repair  than  the  house.  The  amber 
sky  above  the  dark  woods  had  deepened  to  orange,  to 
crimson ;  the  waning  light  suffused  the  waters  of  the 
spring  branch  which  flowed  close  by  the  barn,  the  wil- 
lows leaning  to  it,  the  ferns  laving  in  it.  The  place  was 
incredibly  solitary  and  mournful  with  the  persistent  spec- 
tacle of  the  deserted  home,  suggestive  of  collapsed  ener- 
gies, of  the  defeated  scheme  of  some  simple  humanity. 

A  faint  bleat  rose  suddenly.  Alethea  turned  quickly. 
Amongst  a  patch  of  briers  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  some- 
thing white  ;  another  glance,  —  it  wras  the  ewe,  quietly 
nibbling  the  grass. 

Alethea  had  no  intention  of   moving  softly,  but  her 


54  jx   THE    (1LOULS. 

skirts  brushing  through  the  weeds  made  hardly  a  sound. 
Her  light,  sure  step  scarcely  stirred  a  leaf.  The  ewe 
saw  her  presently,  and  paused  in  feeding.  She  had 
been  making  the  best  of  her  woes,  remaining  near  her 
lamb,  which  had  fallen  into  a  sink-hole,  sustained  by  the 
earth,  gravel  and  banks  of  leaves  held  in  the  mouth  of 
the  cavity.  Its  leg  was  broken,  and  thus,  although  the 
sheep  could  venture  to  it,  the  lamb  could  not  follow  to 
the  vantage-ground  above.  Seeing  that  succor  was  at 
hand,  the  sheep  lost  all  patience  and  calmness,  and  ran 
about  Alethea  in  a  distracting  fashion,  bleating,  till  the 
lamb,  roused  to  a  renewed  sense  of  its  calamities,  bleated 
piteously  too.  As  it  lay  down  in  the  cavity  upon  the 
dead  leaves,  it  had  a  strangely  important  look  upon  its 
face,  appreciating  how  much  stir  it  was  making  in  the 
world  for  one  of  its  size.  Alethea  noticed  this,  albeit  she 
was  too  self-absorbed  at  the  moment.  These  treacher- 
ous hopper-shaped  sink-holes  are  of  indefinite  depth,  and 
are  often  the  mouths  of  caves.  To  reach  the  lamb  she 
must  needs  venture  half  across  the  cavity.  *She  stepped 
cautiously  down  the  debris,  holding  fast  the  while  to  the 
branches  of  an  elder-bush  growing  on  its  verge.  She 
felt  the  earth  sinking  beneath  her  feet.  The  sheep, 
which  had  jumped  in  too,  sprang  hastily  out.  Alethea 
had  a  dizzying  realization  of  insecurity.  She  caught 
the  lamb  up  in  one  arm,  then  stepped  upon  the  sinking 
mass  and  struggled  up  the  side  of  the  aperture,  as  with 
a  great  gulp  the  leaves  and  earth  were  swallowed  into 
the  cavity.  She  looked  down  with  that  sickening  sense 
of  a  sheer  escape,  still  holding  the  lamb  in  one  arm ; 
the  other  hand  readjusted  the  heavy  masses  of  her  golden 
hair,  and  the  saffron  kerchief  about  the  neck  of  her 
brown  dress.  The  sheep,  one  anxiety  removed,  was  the 
prey  of  another,  and  pressed  close  to  Alethea,  with  out- 
stretched head  and  all  the  fears  of  kidnapping  in  her 
pleading  eyes. 

Alethea  waited  for  a  moment  to  rest.  Then  as  she 
glanced  over  her  shoulder  her  heart  seemed  to  stand 
still,  her  brain  reeled,  and  but  for  her  acute  conscious- 
ness she  would  have  thought  she  must  be  dreaming. 


7^V  THE   CLOUDS.  55 

The  clearing  lay  there  all  as  it  was  a  moment  before : 
the  deserted  buildings,  the  weed-grown  fields,  the  rotting 
rail  fence ;  the  woods  dark  about  it,  the  sky  red  above 
it.  Around  and  around  the  old  barn,  in  a  silent  circuit, 
three  men  were  solemnly  tramping  in  single  file.  She 
stood  staring  at  them  with  dilated  eyes,  all  the  mystic 
traditions  of  supernatural  manifestations  uppermost  in 
her  mind.  Once  more  the  owl's  scream  rent  the  brood- 
ing stillness.  How  far  that  low,  derisive  chuckle  echoed ! 
A  s.tar,  melancholy,  solitary,  was  in  the  pensive  sky. 
The  men's  faces  were  grave, ; —  once,  twice,  thrice,  they 
made  the  round.  Then  they  stood  together  in  the  open 
space  beneath  the  loft,  and  consulted  in  whispers. 

One  suddenly  spoke  aloud. 

"  Oh,  Tobe  !  "  he  called. 

"  Tobe  !  "  called  the  echoes. 

There  was  no  answer.  All  three  looked  up  wistfully. 
Then  they  again  conferred  together  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Oh,  Tobias  !  "  cried  the  spokesman  in  a  voice  of  en- 
treaty. 

"  Tobias  !  "  pleaded  the  plaintive  echoes. 

Still  there  was  no  answer.  The  owl  screamed  sud- 
denly in  its  weird,  shrill  tones.  It  had  flown  out  from 
among  the  rafters  and  perched  on  the  smokeless  chim- 
ney of  the  hut.  Then  its  uncanny  laughter  filled  the  in- 
terval. 

Once  more  the  men  whispered  anxiously  to  each  other. 
One  of  them,  a  tall,  ungainly,  red-haired  fellow,  seemed 
to  have  evolved  a  solution  of  the  problem  which  had  baf- 
fled them. 

"  Mister  Winkeye  !  "  he  exclaimed,  with  vociferous 
confidence. 

The  echoes  were  forestalled.  A  sneeze  rang  out  ab- 
ruptly from  the  loft  of  the  deserted  old  barn,  —  a  sneeze 
resonant,  artificial,  grotesque  enough  to  set  the  blades 
below  to  roaring  with  delighted  laughter. 

"  He  mus'  hev  his  joke.  Mister  Winkeye  air  a 
mighty  jokified  old  man,"  declared  the  red-haired  fel- 
low. 


oG  /.V  THE   CLOUDS. 

They  made  no  effort  to  hold  farther  communication 
with  the  sneezer  in  the  loft.  They  hastily  placed  a 
burly  jug  in  the  centre  of  the  space  below,  and  laid  a 
silver  half-dollar  upon  the  cob  that  served  as  stopper. 
The  coin  looked  extremely  small  in  this  juxtaposition. 
There  may  be  people  elsewhere  who  would  be  glad  of  a 
silver  coin  of  that  size  capable  of  filling  so  disproportion- 
ately large  a  jug.  Then  they  ran  off  fleetly  out  of  the 
clearing  and  into  the  woods,  and  Alethea  could  hear  the 
brush  crackling  as  they  dashed  through  it  on  the  slopes 
below. 

She  was  still  pale  and  tremulous,  but  no  longer  doubts 
beset  her.  She  understood  the  wiles  of  the  illicit  distil- 
ler, pursued  so  closely  by  the  artifices  of  the  raiders  that 
he  was  prone  to  distrust  the  very  consumers  of  his  brush 
whiskey.  They  never  saw  his  face,  they  knew  not  even 
his  name.  They  had  no  faint  suspicion  where  his  still 
was  hidden.  They  were  not  even  dangerous  as  unwilling 
witnesses,  should  they  be  caught  with  the  illicit  liquor 
in  their  hands.  The  story  that  they  had  left  a  jug  and 
a  half-dollar  in  a  deserted  barn,  and  found  the  jug  filled 
and  the  coin  vanished,  would  inculpate  no  one.  From 
the  loft  the  distiller  or  his  emissary  could  see  and  recog- 
nize them  as  they  came.  Alethea,  having  crept  d  >wn 
the  slope  amongst  the  briers  in  search  of  the  lamb,  had 
been  concealed  from  him.  She  was  seized  instantly  by 
the  desire  to  get  away  before  he  should  appear.  She 
coveted  the  knowledge  of  no  such  dangerous  secret. 
She  walked  boldly  out  from  the  leafy  covert,  that  he 
might  see  her  in  the  clearing  and  delay  till  she  was 
gone. 

The  lamb  was  bleating  faintly  in  her  arms ;  the  sheep 
pressed  close  to  her  side,  nudging  her  elbow  with  an  in- 
sistent nozzle.  The  last  flush  of  the  day  was  on  her 
shining  hair  and  her  grave,  earnest  face.  The  path  led 
her  near  the  barn.  She  hesitated,  stopped,  and  drew 
back  hastily.  A  man  was  swinging  himself  alertly  down 
from  the  loft.  He  caught  up  the  coin,  slipped  it  into 
his  pocket,  and  lifted  the  jug  with  the  other  hand.  The 


7.V  THE   CLOUDS.  57 

next  moment  he  dropped  it  suddenly,  with  a  startled  ex- 
clamation. His  eyes  had  met  her  eyes.  There  was  a 
moment  of  suspense  charged  with  mutual  recognition. 
Then  she  ran  hastily  by,  never  pausing  till  she  was  far 
away  in  the  deep  obscurity  of  the  woods. 


IV. 

THE  night  came  on.  The  dark  summits  of  the  great 
mountains  were  heavily  denned  against  the  sky.  Here 
and  there  along  those  steep  slanting  lines  that  mark  the 
ravines  a  mist  hung,  vaguely  perceived.  A  point  of  red 
light  might  gleam  in  the  dusky  depths  of  Piomingo 
Cove  where  the  flare  of  a  hearth-stone  flickered  out. 
All  the  drowsy  nocturnal  voices  joined  in  iterative  uni- 
son, broken  only  when  the  marauding  wolf  of  the  Great 
Smoky  howled  upon  the  bald.  The  herders  ruefully 
thought  of  the  roaming  yearlings,  and  presaged  calam- 
ity. All  the  world  was  sunk  in  gloom,  till  gradually  a 
rayonnant  heralding  halo,  of  a  pallid  and  lustrous  green, 
appeared  above  the  deeply  purple  summits  ;  in  its 
midst  the  yellow  moon  slowly  revealed  itself,  and  with  a 
visible  tremulousness  rose  solemnly  into  the  ascendency 
of  the  night. 

It  was  high  in  the  sky  when  Mink  Lorey  rode  along 
the  wild  mountain  ways.  More  than  once  he  looked  up 
earnestly  at  it,  not  under  the  spell  of  lunar  splendors, 
but  with  a  prosaic  calculation  of  the  hour.  Suddenly 
he  drew  up  the  mare.  He  lifted  his  head,  listening. 
Voices  sounded  in  the  depths  of  the  woods,  —  faint,  far, 
hilarious  voices  ;  then  absolute  silence.  He  struck  the 
mare  with  his  heels.  The  animal  pushed  on  unwillingly, 
breaking  through  the  brush,  stumbling  over  the  stones, 
scrambling  up  and  down  steep  slopes.  All  at  once,  with 
a  burst  of  laughter,  there  was  disclosed  an  opening  in 
the  forest.  A  glory  of  pale  moonlight  suffused  the 
mountains  in  the  distance  and  the  shimmering  mists  in 
the  valley.  In  the  flecking  shadow  of  the  great  trees 
were  half  a  dozen  figures,  with  hairy  moonlit  faces  and 
shining  eyes,  seated  on  logs  or  rocks,  or  lying  upon  the 
ground. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  59 

Not  fauns  nor  satyrs ;  not  Bacchus  come  again  with 
all  his  giddy  rout.  Only  the  malcontents  because  of  the 
bonded  still. 

"  Hy  're,  Mink  !  "  exclaimed  Jerry  Price.  "  We  fund 
the  jug  hyar  'cordin'  ter  promise,  hid  in  a  hollow  tree." 

"  I  hope,"  said  Mink  with  sudden  apprehension,  as  he 
dismounted,  "  thar  be  some  lef  fur  me." 

"  A  leetle,  I  reckon.     Hyar,  Mink,  wet  yer  whistle." 

Mink  sat  down  on  the  roots  of  a  tree  draped  from  its 
summit  to  its  lowest  bough  with  the  rank  luxuriance  of  a 
wild  grapevine.  The  pendent  ends  swayed  in  the  wind. 
The  dew  was  upon  the  bunches  of  green  fruit  and  the 
delicate  tendrils,  and  the  moonlight  slanted  on  them  with 
a  glistening  sheen. 

Mink  took  the  jug,  which  gurgled  alluringly.  He  re- 
moved the  cob  that  served  as  stopper,  and  smelled  it 
with  the  circumspect  air  of  those  who  drink  from  jugs. 
Then  he  turned  it  up  to  his  mouth.  A  long  bubbling 
sound,  and  he  put  it  down  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction. 

"  Ye  don't  'pear  ez  riled  ez  ye  did  when  ye  rid  out'n 
Piomingo  Cove,"  suggested  Pete  Rood. 

He  had  a  swaggering,  triumphant  manner,  although 
he  was  lying  on  the  ground. 

Mink,  leaning  back  against  the  bole  of  the  tree,  the 
moonlight  full  on  his  wild  dark  eyes,  his  clear-cut  face, 
and  tousled  hair,  gave  no  sign  of  anger  or  even  of  atten- 
tion. 

"  Whar  hev  ye  been  all  this  time  ?  "  asked  Jerry  Price. 

"  Waal,"  said  Mink  leisurely,  "  ye  know  that  thar  coon 
ez  Tad  gin  me,  —  I  won  it  at  '  five  corn  : '  arter  I  hed 
rid  out'n  Piomingo  Cove  an'  hed  started  up  the  mount- 
ing, I  hearn  suthin'  yappin'  arter  me,  an'  thar  war  Tad 
a-fetchin'  his  coon.  That  thar  idjit  hed  run  mighty  nigh 
three  miles  ter  fetch  me  his  coon  !  Waal,  I  hed  n't  no 
'casion  fur  a  cap,  an'  the  coon  war  a  powerful  peart 
leetle  consarn,  —  smiled  mighty  nigh  ekal  ter  a  possum, 
—  an'  I  'lowed  Elviry  Crosby  mought  set  store  by  sech 
fur  a  pet,  an'  so  I  rid  over  thar  an'  gin  the  coon  ter  her. 
She  war  mos'  pleased  ter  death  ter  git  the  critter." 


60  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

"  Ye  ain't  been  thar  ever  sence !  "  exclaimed  Jerry. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mink  demurely.  "  I  bided  ter  supper 
along  of  'em,  —  the  old  folks  bein'  powerful  perlite  an' 
gin  me  an  invite." 

Jerry  poked  him  in  the  ribs.  "  Ye  air  a  comical 
cuss  !  Ye  hev  got  all  the  gals  in  the  mountings  crazy 
'bout'n  ye." 

Mink  laughed  lightly,  and  stayed  the  fleet  jug,  whio-h 
was  agile  considering  its  bulk,  and  once  more  drank 
deeply.  If  he  had  needed  zest  for  his  draught,  he  might 
have  found  it  in  the  expression  of  Pete  Rood's  face.  He 
had  already  revenged  himself,  but  he  must  needs  push 
the  matter  further.  He  smiled  with  reminiscent  relish, 
as  he  leaned  against  the  tree. 

"  Elviry  axed  mighty  p'inted  ef  I  war  a-goin'  right 
straight  up  ter  the  herders'  cabin  ter-night,  an'  I  tole 
her  ez  I  hed  a  job  on  hand  with  a  man  named  Tobias 
Winkeye  ez  I  hed  ter  look  arter  fust.  But  she  suspi- 
cioned  suthin',  'count  o'  the  name,  I  reckon,  though  she 
never  drempt  't  war  jes'  whiskey.  She  'lowed  she  hed 
never  hearn  o'  nobody  named  sech.  An'  I  tole  her  she 
hed  :  her  dad  used  ter  like  old  Winkeye  mightily,  though 
she  did  n't  know  him  ez  well  ez  some.  She  'lowed  I  war 
a-goin'  off  a-courtin'  some  other  gal.  It  war  toler'ble 
hard  ter  pacify  her,"  with  a  covert  glance  at  Rood.  "  I 
hed  ter  talk  sixteen  ter  the  dozen." 

"  Waal,  we  hed  better  look  out  how  our  tongues  wag- 
so  slack  with  that  thar  name,"  said  Price.  "  I  lef  old 
man  Griff  settin'  outside  the  mill  door  a-waitin'  fur  old 
Winkeye  ter  ride  by,  —  bein'  ez  I  hed  gin  the  word  he 
lives  in  Eskaqua  Cove,  —  'kase  he  wanted  ter  warn  him 
not  ter  let  no  job  o'  work  go  ter  Mink  Lorey.  lie  'lowed 
he  war  goin'  ter  gin  Mink  a  bad  name.;' 

Mink's  blood,  fired  by  the  liquor,  burned  at  fever  heat. 
His  roving  eyes  were  distended  and  unnaturally  bright 
as  the  moonlight  flashed  into  them.  His  cheek  was 
deeply  flushed.  Despite  the  rare  chill  air  of  the  heights, 
he  was  hot ;  often  he  took  off  his  hat  to  let  the  wind 
play  in  his  long  tangled  hair  that  hung  down  to  his 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  61 

shoulders,  and  lay  in  heavy  moist  rings  on  his  forehead. 
Every  fibre  was  strained  to  the  keenest  tension  of  excite- 
ment. He  was  equally  susceptible  to  any1  current  of 
emotion,  to  anger  or  mirth.  He  broke  out  indignant- 

ly:- 

"  Old  man  Griff  hed  better  quit  tryin'  ter  spite  me. 
I  '11  fix  him  fur  it.  I  'm  goin'  by  thar  this  very  night 
an'  lift  the  mill  gate  an'  set  the  wheel  a-runnin'.  It  '11 
be  ez  good  ez  a  coon-fight  ter  see  him  kem  out'n  his  house 
an'  cuss  !  " 

He  burst  into  sudden  laughter. 

"  Oh,  ah  !     Oh,  ah !  "  he  sang,  — 

"  The  wind  blows  brief,  the  moon  hangs  high  ; 
Oh,  listen,  folks !  —  the  dead  leaves  fly. 
The  witch  air  out  with  a  broom  o'  saidge, 
Ter  sweep  'em  up  an'  over  the  aidge 
O'  the  new-made  grave,  '  ter  hide, '  she  said, 
'  The  prints  o'  my  fingers  buryin'  the  dead ; 
Fur  how  he  died  —  oh,  ah!  oh,  ah! 
I  'd  tell  ef  't  warn't  fur  the  mornin'  star.'  " 

His  mellow,  rich  baritone  voice,  hilarious  and  loud, 
echoed  far  and  wide,  and  incongruously  filled  the  solemn 
solitudes. 

"Who  air  a-goin'  ter  hear?"  he  demanded,  when  cau- 
tion was  suggested.  "  The  herders  on  the  mounting  ? 
Too  fur  off  !  Too  high  up  !  Asleep,  besides." 

"  They  'd  think  't  war  a  wolf,"  said  Peter  Rood,  still 
lying  at  length  on  the  ground. 

Mink  had  his  sensibilities.  On  these  harmonious  num- 
bers he  piqued  himself.  He  felt  affronted. 

"  A  leetle  mo',  an'  I  '11  break  this  jug  over  yer  head. 
Nobody  ain't  a-goin'  ter  think  ez  my  singin'  air  a  wolf." 

"  Ye  hand  it  hyar,"  said  Pete ;  "  nobody  gits  a  fair 
show  at  that  jug  but  you-uns."  As  he  rose  to  his  knees 
one  foot  caught  in  a  grapevine,  in  his  haste. 

"  Wait  till  it  be  empty,"  said  Mink,  making  a  feint  of 
lifting  it  to  his  mouth.  Then  turning  suddenly,  he  faced 
Pete  Rood  as  he  staggered  to  his  feet,  and  dealt  a 
blow  which  sent  that  worthy  once  more  prone  upon  the 
ground. 


62  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

There  was  a  jumble  of  excited  protest  from  the  oth- 
ers, each  vociferously  trying  to  quiet  his  companions. 
Mink  was  squaring  of?  with  clenched  fists. 

"  Kem  on,"  he  observed,  "  thar  's  ground  enough  hyar 
fur  ez  many  ez  kin  kiver  it." 

"  Look-a-hyar,"  exclaimed  Jerry  Price,  whose  grief 
that  the  placidities  of  the  festivity  should  be  frustrated 
very  nearly  resembled  a  regard  for  law  and  order,  "ye 
two  boys  hev  jes'  got  ter  quit  fightin'  an'  sech,  an'  spilin' 
the  enjyement  o'  the  rest  o'  we-uns.  Quit  foolin',  Mink. 
Ye  ain't  hurt  no-ways,  air  ye,  Pete  ?  " 

"  Laws  -  a  -  massy,  naw,"  said  Pete  unexpectedly. 
"  Mink  never  knocked  me  down  nohow.  I  jes'  cotched 
my  foot  in  a  grapevine.  That 's  all." 

But  he  lifted  himself  heavily,  and  he  limped  as  he 
walked  to  a  rock  at  a  little  distance  and  sat  down. 

Mink  with  his  sudden  change  of  temper  let  the  en- 
counter pass  as  a  bit  of  fun.  He  referred  to  the  jug 
frequently  afterward,  and  again  burst  into  song  :  — 

"Oh,  ah!     Oh,  ah! 

The  weevil 's  in  the  wheat,  the  worm  's  in  the  corn, 
The  moon  's  got  a  twist  in  the  eend  o'  her  horn ; 
Fur  the  witch,  she  grinned  and  batted  her  eye, 
An'  gin  'em  an  ail  ez  she  went  hy 
Ter  f resk  in  the  frost,  '  an'  show, '  she  said, 
'  I  kin  dance  on  my  ankle-j'ints  an'  swaller  my  head, 
An'  how  I  do  it,  oh,  ah  !  oh,  ah  ! 
I  'd  tell  ef  't  warn't  fur  the  mornin'  star.'  " 

The  others  joined  tumultuously  in  the  chorus.  One 
sprang  up,  dancing  a  clumsy  measure  and  striking  his 
feet  together  with  an  uncouth  deftness  worthy  of  all 
praise  in  the  estimation  of  his  comrades.  They  broke 
into  ecstatic  guffaws,  in  the  midst  of  which  Mink's  "  Oh, 
ah !  Oh,  ah !  "  heralding  the  next  verse,  seemed  a  voice 
a  long  way  off.  Down  the  ravine  was  visible  a  collection 
of  great  white  trees,  girdled  and  dead  long  ago,  standing 
in  some  field,  all  so  tiny  in  the  distance  that  it  was  as  if 
the  fingers  of  a  ghostly  hand  had  pointed  upward  at  the 
group  of  revelers  on  the  ridge. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  63 

The  shadows  had  shifted,  slanted.  The  moon  was 
westering  fast.  Every  gauzy  effect  of  vapor  had  its  fas- 
cination in  the  embellishing  beam,  and  shone  vaguely  iri- 
descent. All  were  drifting  down  the  valley  toward  Chil- 
howee.  Above  them  rose  that  enchanted  mountain's 
summit,  with  its  long  irregular  horizontal  line,  purple 
and  romantic,  suggestive  of  its  crags,  its  caves,  its  for- 
ests, and  its  wild  unwritten  poetry.  A  star  was  close 
upon  it.  Peace  brooded  on  its  heights. 

The  prophecy  of  dawn  was  momently  reiterated 
with  fuller  phrase,  with  plainer  significance.  Even 
Mink,  reluctant  to  recognize  it,  yielded  at  last  to  Jerry 
Price's  insistence.  And  indeed  the  jug  was  empty. 

"  Put  the  jug  in  the  hollow  tree,  then,  like  we  prom- 
ised, an'  let 's  go,"  said  Mink.  "  Mos'  day,  ennyhow. 
'  Oh,  ah !  Oh,  ah !  The  daylight 's  apt  ter  break,'  said 
the  witch." 

The  jug  was  thrust  in  the  hollow  of  the  tree,  and  the 
drunken  fellows,  in  the  securities  of  their  fancied  quiet, 
went  whooping  through  the  woods.  The  owl's  hoot 
ceased  as  their  meaningless  clamor  rose  from  under  the 
boughs.  Now  and  then  that  crisp,  matutinal  sound,  the 
vibrant  chirp  of  half-awakened  nestlings,  jarred  the  air. 

The  group  presently  began  to  separate,  some  going 
down  to  Eskaqua  Cove,  where  they  would  find  their  sev- 
eral homes  if  they  could,  but  would  at  all  hazards  lay 
down  their  neighbors'  fences.  Rood  lingered  for  a  time 
with  Mink  and  one  or  two  others  who  cherished  the  de- 
sign of  seeing  old  man  Griff's  mill  started  before  day. 
He  turned  off,  however,  when  they  had  reached  the  open 
spaces  of  Piomingo  Cove.  It  lay  quiet,  pastoral,  encir- 
cled by  the  solemn  mountains,  with  the  long  slant  of  the 
moonbeams  upon  it  and  the  glister  of  the  dew.  The 
fields  had  all  a  pearly,  luminous  effect,  marked  off  by 
the  zigzag  lines  of  the  rail  fences  and  the  dark  bushes 
that  stood  in  corners.  The  houses,  indicated  by  clumps 
of  trees  among  which  they  nestled,  were  dark  and  silent. 
Not  even  a  dog  barked.  When  a  cock  crew  the  sudden 
note  seemed  clear  and  resonant  as  a  bugle.  "  Crowin' 
fur  fower  o'clock,"  said  Mink. 


64  IN  THE    CLOUDS. 

The  road  ran  among  woods  much  of  the  distance ; 
through  the  trees  could  be  caught  occasional  glimpses  of 
the  illuminated  world  without.  But  presently  they  gave 
way.  A  wide,  deep  notch  in  the  summit  of  a  mountain 
revealed  the  western  sky.  The  translucent  amber  moon 
swung  above  these  purple  steeps,  all  suffused  with  its  gla- 
mourous irradiation.  Below,  the  shining  breadth  of  the 
Scolacutta  River  swept  down  from  the  vague  darkness. 
It  was  still  night,  yet  one  could  see  how  the  pawpaw 
and  the  laurel  crowded  the  banks.  The  oblique  line  of 
the  roof  of  the  mill  was  drawn  against  the  purple  sky ; 
its  windows  were  black  ;  its  supports  were  reflected  in 
the  stream  with  a  distinct  reduplication ;  the  water 
trickled  down  from  crevices  in  the  race  with  a  lace-like 
effect,  seeming  never  to  fall,  but  to  hang  as  if  it  were 
some  gauzy  fragment  of  a  fabric.  Beneath  the  great 
wheel,  motionless,  circular,  shadowy,  was  a  shoaling  yel- 
low light,  pellucid  and  splendid,  —  the  moon  among  the 
shallows.  The  natural  dam,  a  glassy  cataract,  bursting 
into  foam  and  spray,  was  whitely  visible,  with  surging 
rapids  below.  The  sound  seemed  louder  than  usual ;  it 
deadened  the  snap  when  Mink  cut  a  pole  from  a  pawpaw 
tree  and  hastily  trimmed  the  leaves.  He  climbed  gin- 
gerly upon  the  timbers  of  the  race,  then  paused,  looked 
back,  and  hesitated. 

The  others  had  reined  in  their  horses,  and  stood,  ill- 
defined  equestrian  shadows,  on  the  bank  watching  him. 

He  placed  the  pole  beneath  the  lever  by  which  the 
gate  was  raised,  its  other  end  being  within  the  building. 
There  was  no  sound  but  the  monotone  of  the  river.  Then 
with  a  great  creak  the  gate  was  lifted.  The  imprisoned 
water  came  through  with  a  tumultuous  rush.  Mink  felt 
the  stir  beneath  as  the  wheel  began  to  revolve.  There 
was  a  sudden  jar,  a  jerk,  the  structure  swayed  beneath 
him,  a  crash  among  the  timbers,  a  harsh,  wrenching 
sound  as  they  tore  apart.  He  saw  the  faint  stars  reel  as 
in  some  distraught  vision.  He  heard  the  wild  exclamar 
tions  of  the  men  on  the  bank.  He  could  not  distinguish 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  65 

what  they  said,  but  with  an  instinct  rather  than  any  ap- 
preciation of  cause  and  effect  he  tried  to  draw  away  the 
pole  to  let  the  gate  down. 

Too  late.  Through  the  sunken  wreck  of  the  race  the 
water  still  poured  over  the  madly  plunging  wheel.  Mink 
sprang  upon  the  bank,  fell  upon  his  hands  and  knees,  and 
as  he  struggled  to  his  feet  he  saw  beneath  the  race  the 
grotesque  distortions  of  the  simple  machinery.  Some 
villain's  hand  had  adroitly  contrived  a  series  of  clogs, 
each  of  insufficient  weight  to  stop  the  wheel  with  the 
water  still  pouring  over  it,  but  as  it  crushed  them  —  first 
an  empty  barrel,  then  a  pole,  then  a  fence-rail  —  giving 
it  a  succession  of  shocks  that  were  fast  breaking  it  in 
pieces.  Thus  what  was  designed  for  jest  should  result 
in  destruction.  The  mill  itself  was  a  rotten  old  struc- 
ture at  best.  Jarring  with  every  convulsive  wrench  and 
jerk  of  the  bewitched  wheel,  its  supports  tottered  feebly 
in  the  water,  and  when  all  at  once  the  race  came  down, 
and  the  wheel  and  the  heavy  beams  were  driven  against 
its  walls,  for  an  instant  it  quivered,  then  careened, 
crashed.  There  was  a  great  cloud  of  dust  rising  from 
the  tumbled  wreck  on  the  bank.  In  the  water,  floating 
away  on  the  swollen  floods,  were  timbers,  and  barrels, 
and  boards,  and  parts  of  the  clapboard  roof. 

And  then,  from  their  midst,  as  if  the  old  building  had 
an  appreciated  agony  in  its  dissolution,  a  great  cry  of 
pain  went  up.  Mink  turned  with  a  white  face,  as  he  put 
his  foot  in  the  stirrup,  to  stare  over  his  shoulder.  Surely 
he  was  drunk,  very  drunk.  Had  the  others  heard  ?  A 
twinkling  light  sprang  up  beyond  the  orchard  boughs. 
The  house  had  taken  the  alarm.  His  companions  Avere 
getting  away  in  haste.  Sober  enough  for  flight  and  flap- 
ping their  elbows,  they  crowed  in  mockery.  Mink  leaped 
into  his  saddle  to  ride  as  ride  he  must,  still  looking  with 
a  lingering  fear  over  his  shoulder,  remembering  that 
quavering  cry. 

Was  he  drunk,  or  did  he  hear  ?  Could  any  creature 
have  been  in  the  mill,  undisturbed,  —  for  they  were  so 
craftily  quiet,  —  asleep  till  awakened  by  those  death 


66  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

throes  of  the  little  building  ?  Could  it  have  been  a  pet 
fawn  bleating  with  almost  a  human  intonation  in  that 
common  anguish  of  all  life,  the  fear  of  death,  —  a  pet 
cub  ?  What !  his  heart  ached  for  it,  —  he,  the  hardy 
hunter  ?  Oh,  was  his  conscience  endowed  with  some  sub- 
tle discernment  more  acute  than  his  senses  ?  It  seemed 
a  surly  fate  that  had  crept  up  on  the  unwitting  creature 
in  the  dark,  in  the  humble  peace  of  its  slumbers.  And 
he  was  sorry,  too,  for  the  old  man's  mill ;  and  then  a 
vague  terror  possessed  him  when  he  thought  of  the  trick- 
ery with  the  wheel.  Surely  the  hand  of  another  had 
compassed  its  destruction,  yet  when  or  why  he  could  not 
understand,  could  not  guess ;  or  was  he  himself  the  mis- 
creant ?  He  could  not  remember  what  he  had  done  ;  he 
had  been  so  very  drunk. 

Ah,  should  he  ever  again  see  Chilhowee  thus  receive 
the  slant  of  the  sunrise,  and  stand  revealed  in  definite 
purple  heights  against  the  pale  blue  of  the  far  west? 
Should  he  ever  again  mark  that  joyous  matutinal  im- 
pulse of  nature  as  the  dawn  expanded  into  day  ?  The 
note  of  a  bird,  sweet,  thrilling  with  gladness,  came  from 
the  woods,  so  charged  with  the  spirit  of  the  morning  that 
it  might  have  been  the  voice  of  the  light.  And  the  dew 
was  rich  with  the  fragrance  of  flowers,  and  as  he  galloped 
along  the  bridle-path  they  stretched  their  rank  growth 
across  his  way,  sometimes  smiting  him  lightly  in  the  face, 
like  a  challenge  to  mirth.  When  he  climbed  the  steep 
ridge  from  which  were  visible  the  domes  of  the  Great 
Smoky,  all  massive  and  splendid  against  the  dispersing 
roseate  tints  in  the  sky,  the  sunlight  gushing  down  in  a 
crimson  flood  while  the  dazzling  focus  rose  higher  than 
the  highest  bald,  he  cared  less  to  look  above  than  into 
the  shadowed  depths  of  Piomingo  Cove.  Did  he  fancy, 
or  could  he  see  a  stir  there  ?  An  atom  slowly  moved 
down  the  lane,  and  across  the  red  clay  slope  of  a  hill,  — 
another,  and  yet  one  more.  Was  the  settlement  already 
roused  with  the  news  of  the  disaster  to  the  mill  ?  He 
turned  and  pressed  his  mare  along  the  rocky  road,  up 
slopes  and  down  again,  still  ascending  and  descending 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  67 

the  minor  ridges  that  lie  about  the  base  of  the  Smoky. 
Sometimes  he  wondered  at  himself  with  a  harsh,  imper- 
sonal reprehension,  as  if  his  deed  were  another's.  "  How  's 
the  old  man  goin'  ter  make  out  ter  barely  live  'thout  his 
mill  ?  "  he  demanded  of  himself  ;  "  an'  them  gran'chil'n 
ter  keer  fur,  an'  Tad,  an'  all." 

Then  would  come  again  the  recollection  of  that  strange 
muffled  scream,  and  though  the  sun  was  warm  he  shiv- 
ered. 

Often  he  drew  up  the  mare  and  listened  with  a  vague 
sense  of  pursuit.  Stillness  could  hardly  be  more  pro- 
found. Not  the  stir  of  a  leaf,  never  a  stealthy  tread. 
Then  as  he  started  again  down  the  rocky  way,  some 
vagrant  echo,  or  a  stone  rolling  under  his  mare's  hoof, 
would  bring  to  him  again  that  sudden  affright,  and  he 
would  swiftly  turn  to  see  who  dogged  him. 

There  were  many  curves  in  the  path,  and  once  in  its 
opening  vista  he  saw  before  him  a  girl  with  yellow  hair 
outlined  against  the  green  and  gold  foliage  of  the  sunlit 
woods,  clad  in  brown  homespun,  partly  leading  and 
partly  driving  a  dun-colored  ox,  with  a  rope  knotted 
about  his  long  horns. 

She  paused,  swaying  hard  on  it  to  check  the  animal, 
when  she  beheld  the  horseman,  and  her  brown  eyes  were 
full  of  surprised  recognition. 

Mink  gravely  nodded  in  response  to  her  grave  saluta- 
tion. He  seemed  at  first  about  to  pass  without  stopping, 
but  when  it  was  evident  that  she  intended  to  let  the  ox 
trudge  on  he  drew  up  the  mare. 

"  Howdy,  Lethe,"  he  said. 

"  Howdy,"  returned  Alethea. 

"  Enny  news  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  without  speaking. 

"  Whar  be  ye  a-goin'  with  Buck  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Arter  the  warp  in'  ars.  They  war  loaned  ter  aunt 
Dely,  an'  she  hain't  got  but  one  steer  ter  haul  'em  home. 
So  Buck  hed  ter  go." 

The  ox  had  reached  up  his  dun-colored  head  for  the 
leaves,  all  green  and  flecked  with  golden  light.  She 


68  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

had  loosed  her  hold  upon  the  rope,  and  seriously  gazed 
at  Mink. 

"  I  war  down  ter  Crosby's  yestiddy  evenin',"  he  ob- 
served, watching  her. 

"  I  hopes  ye  enjyed  yerse'f,"  she  said,  with  tart  self- 
betrayal. 

He  laughed  a  little,  and  turned  the  reins  in  his  hands. 
He  relished  infinitely  the  sight  of  the  red  and  angry  spot 
on  either  cheek,  the  spark  in  her  eye. 

"  I  did,"  he  said  jauntily,  noting  the  effect  of  his 
words.  "  I  seen  Elviry." 

She  made  an  effort  at  self-control. 

"  Waal,"  she  returned,  calmly,  although  her  voice 
trembled  a  little,  "  I  hope  ye  kin  agree  with  her  better 
'n  ye  ever  done  with  me.  We  war  n't  made  fur  one  an- 
other, I  reckon,  no-ways." 

"  Oh,  I  hain't  never  axed  Elviry  ;  't  ain't  never  gone 
ez  fur  ez  that.  I  lowed  ez  mebbe  ye  an'  me  mought 
make  it  up  some  day." 

He  was  only  trying  her,  but  the  vaunted  feminine  in- 
tuition did  not  detect  this.  Her  cheek  crimsoned.  Her 
eyes  were  full  of  liquid  lights.  She  laughed,  a  low  gurg- 
ling laugh  of  happiness,  that,  nevertheless,  broke  into  a 
sob. 

"  I  dunno  'bout  that,"  she  said,  evasively,  belying  the 
rapture  in  her  face. 

She  was  very  beautiful  at  the  moment.  A  cultivated 
man,  versed  in  the  harmonies  of  line  and  color,  tutored 
to  discriminate  expressions  and  gauge  feelings  and  rec- 
ognize types,  might  have  perceived  something  innately 
noble  in  her,  foolish  though  the  affection  was  which  em- 
bellished her. 

Even  he  was  impressed  by  it.  "I  hev  never  axed 
nobody  but  ye,"  he  said.  "  Not  even  arter  we  quar'led." 

He  was  not  bound  by.  this,  which  he  knew  full  well, 
and  it  promised  nothing.  But  it  held  her  love  and  loy- 
alty for  him,  if  ever  he  should  want  them. 

Nevertheless,  while  he  piqued  himself  on  his  domina- 
tion, he  was  under  her  influence  at  the  fleeting  moment 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  69 

when  he  was  with  her.  Perhaps  her  presence  induced 
some  tender  affinity  for  the  better  things.  He  said  with 
a  sigh,  "I  hev  done  gone  an'  got  in  a  awful  scrape, 
Lethe.  I  reckon  nobody  never  hed  sech  a  pack  o' 
troubles  in  this  worlV 

With  a  sort  of  pitying  deprecation  of  the  wiles  of 
old  Tobias  Winkeye  she  gravely  listened.  Once  she  un- 
consciously put  up  her  hand  and  stroked  his  mare.  He 
was  petulant,  like  a  spoiled  child,  when  he  told  how  he 
only  meant  a  jest  and  such  woful  destruction  had  en- 
sued. "  An'  me  so  boozy  I  dunno  what  I  done.  An' 
that  thar  pore  old  man  !  An'  his  mill  plumb  ruined !  An' 
all  his  gran'chillen  an'  Tad  ter  keer  fur  !  " 

Her  face  had  become  very  pale.  Her  voice  trembled 
as  she  said,  — 

"  Ain't  sech  agin  the  law,  Reuben  ?  " 

She  always  called  him  by  his  name,  rather  than  the 
sobriquet  his  pranks  had  earned.  He  was  unfamiliar 
with  himself  thus  dignified,  and  it  gave  him  an  added 
sense  of  importance. 

"  Yes,  but  't  ain't  nuthin'  but  ten  dollar  fine,  mebbe, 
an'  a  few  days  in  jail," —  she  gasped,  —  "  ef  they  ketches 
me." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  swift,  crafty  brightness  that 
was  wonderfully  like  the  little  creature  whose  name  he 
bore. 

"  I  would  n't  keer  fur  that,  though,"  he  added  after  a 
pause.  "  Bern'  in  jail  fur  rollickin'  roun'  the  kentry  jes' 
fur  fun  ain't  a  disgrace,  like  fur  stealin'  an'  sech.  What 
pesters  me  so  is  studyin'  'bout  the  old  man  and*  his  mill, 
plumb  ruined.  Lord !  Lord !  I  'd  gin  my  mare  an* 
hogs  an'  gun  ef  it  hed  never  happened  !  " 

She  stood  meditative  and  motionless  against  the  leafy 
background,  all  dark  and  restful  verdure  close  at  hand, 
opening  into  a  vista  of  luminous  emerald  lightened  in  the 
distance  to  a  gilded  green  where  the  sunshine  struck 
aslant  with  a  climax  of  gold. 

"  I  reckon  ye  think  so,  Reuben,  but  ye  would  n't,"  she 
said  at  last,  with  her  fatal  candor. 


70  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

He  winced.  He  was  both  hurt  and  angry  as  he  re- 
joined, "  An'  why  would  n't  I  ?  " 

"  Why,  ye  be  'bleeged  ter  know  ef  ye  war  ter  gin  the 
old  man  yer  mare  an'  gun  an'  hogs,  he  'd  be  more  'n 
willin'  ter  gin  it  up  agin  ye.  The  mill  stones  air  thar 
yit  under  the  water,  an'  he  could  sell  that  truck  o'  yourn 
an'  build  ez  good  a  shanty  ez  he  hed  afore,  —  better, 
'kase  't  would  be  new." 

He  looked  down  at  her,  tapping  his  heavy  boot  with 
the  hickory  switch  in  his  hand. 

"  Ye  ain't  changed  none,  since  we  war  promised  to 
marry,"  he  said  slowly.  "  Then  ye  war  forever  a-jawin' 
an'  a-preachin'  at  me  'bout  what  I  done  an'  what  I 
oughter  do,  same  ez  the  rider.  Ye  talk  'bout  jewty  ez 
brash  ez  ef  ye  never  hed  none,  same  ez  he  does  'bout  re- 
ligion. He  ain't  hurt  with  that,  ef  ye  watch  him  fresk 
'round  when  they  air  pourin'  him  out  a  dram  or  settin' 
out  the  table.  That 's  sech  grace  ez  he  hev  got,  but  he 
kin  talk  powerful  sober  ter  other  folks ;  jes'  like  you-uns. 
I  'm  sorry  I  ever  tole  ye  about  it,  eimy  ways.  I  'm  sorry 
I  met  up  with  ye  this  mornin'  "  — 

The  girl's  face  was  as  visibly  pained  as  if  he  had 
cruelly  struck  her.  He  went  on  tumultuously,  aggregat- 
ing wrath  and  a  sense  of  injury  and  a  desire  of  reprisal 
with  every  word. 

"  I  'm  sorry  I  ever  seen  ye  !  Ye  'mind  me  o'  that  thar 
harnt  o'  a  Herder  on  Thunderhead  the  folks  tells  about. 
Ef  ye  happen  ter  kem  upon  him  suddint,  an'  don't  turn 
back  but  ketch  his  eye,  that  year  air  withered.  Nuthin' 
ye  plant  "will  grow,  an'  ef  the  craps  air  laid  by  they  won't 
ripen.  He  can't  kill  ye  ;  he  jes'  spiles  yer  chance.  An' 
ye  'minds  me  o'  him." 

"  Oh,  Reuben  !  "  the  girl  cried,  in  deprecation. 

"  Ye  do,  —  ye  do  !  I  tole  ye,  'kase  I  'lowed  mebbe  ye 
mought  holp  me,  —  more  fool  me !  —  leastways  ye 
mought  be  sorry.  Shucks  !  And  now  I  'm  sorry  I  tole 
ye." 

He  struck  the  mare  suddenly  and  slowly  rode  past. 
He  glanced  back  once.  If  Alethea  had  been  looking 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  71 

wistfully  after  him  he  might  have  paused.  He  expected 
it ;  he  had  even  listened  for  her  to  call.  The  light  fell 
with  a  rich  tinge  on  her  golden  hair  and  her  delicate 
profile  as  she  reached  up  to  adjust  the  rope  on  the  long 
horns  of  the  dun-colored  ox.  The  vacillating  color  of 
the  leaves  shoaling  in  the  wind  and  the  sunshine  seemed 
the  more  fantastic  for  the  sober  hue  of  her  brown  gown 
and  the  crude  red  clay  path.  Even  when  the  ox  re- 
sumed his  journey  she  did  not  once  look  back,  and  pres- 
ently the  fluctuating  leaves  hid  her  from  sight. 

Mink's  gust  of  temper  had  served  to  divert  him  for 
the  moment  from  the  contemplation  of  his  perplexities. 
Now  they  reasserted  themselves.  Before,  however,  he 
had  seen  no  hope  of  extrication.  But  Alethea's  words 
had  given  him  something.  He  began  to  appreciate  the 
necessity  of  a  definite  plan  of  action.  If  he  should  go  up 
to  Piomingo  Bald  he  would  be  taken  at  the  herders' 
cabin  by  the  officers  of  the  law.  His  home  could  be  no 
refuge.  He  felt  a  respite  essential.  He  craved  the  time 
to  think  of  Alethea's  suggestion,  to  canvass  the  ground, 
to  judge  what  was  possible.  At  last  he  dismounted  and 
turned  his  mare  out ;  even  here  he  could  hear  the  occa- 
sional jangling  bells  of  the  herds,  and  the  animal  would 
soon  follow  the  familiar  sound.  He  took  his  way  on  foot 
down  the  mountain  and  through  Eskaqua  Cove.  "  The 
news  '11  travel  slower  'n  me,"  he  said. 

He  hardly  felt  hunger ;  he  did  not  realize  his  fatigue. 
The  red  clay  roads  were  vacant,  the  few  daily  passers 
were  not  yet  astir.  He  avoided,  as  far  as  he  might,  the 
possibility  of  meeting  them  by  taking  short  cuts  over  the 
mountains  and  through  valleys.  His  instinct  was  to  re- 
move himself  from  his  accustomed  haunts.  Neverthe- 
less, he  had  no  definite  intention  of  hiding,  for  after 
traversing  Hazel  Valley,  he  struck  boldly  into  the  county 
road  that  leads  up  the  eastern  slope  of  Big  Injun  Moun- 
tain. He  had  no  thought  of  resisting  arrest.  He  walked 
along  meditatively,  hardly  conscious  even  of  the  com- 
pany of  his  shadow  climbing  the  mountain  with  him,  un- 
til he  suddenly  found  that  it  had  skulked  away  and  he 


72  IN  THE    CLOUDS. 

was  bereft  of  this  vague  similitude  of  a  comrade.  For 
the  sun  was  already  west  of  Big  Injun.  A  pensive  shade 
lay  far  down  the  slope,  hut  below  there  was  again  the 
interfulgent  play  of  sunshine  itinerant  with  the  wind 
among  the  leaves. 

Once  he  sat  down  on  a  rock  close  by  the  road,  with 
his  head  in  his  hands  and  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  and 
sought  again  to  adjust  his  course  to  the  best  interests  of 
conscience  and  policy.  A  woman  with  a  bag  of  fruit 
on  her  back  passed  him  presently.  He  replied  to  her 
"  howdy ;  "  then  after  a  time  rose  and  trudged  up  and 
up  the  road.  He  had  known  repentance  before,  for  he 
was  plastic  morally.  But  in  his  experience  there  had 
been  no  perplexity.  It  seemed  to  him,  with  the  urgency 
of  decision  and  the  turmoil  of  doubt  pressing  upon  him, 
that  it  was  happier  to  be  resolutely  reckless.  The  har- 
assments  of  uncertainty  had  affected  his  nerves,  and  he 
gave  a  quick  start  when  the  abrupt  jangle  of  a  bell  smote 
the  air.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  road,  among  the 
great  craggy  steeps,  there  was  a  wide,  low  niche  in  the 
face  of  the  cliff,  with  a  beetling  roof  and  a  confusion  of 
rocks  and  bushes  below.  Sheep  had  climbed  into  it ; 
some  were  standing  looking  down  at  him,  now  and  then 
stirring  and  setting  the  bell  to  clanking  fitfully ;  others 
lay  motionless  in  the  shadowy  nook.  He  was  about  to 
go  on  ;  suddenly  he  turned  and  began  to  scale  the  huge 
fragments  of  rock  to  the  niche  in  the  cliff. 

"  Ye  clar  out,"  he  said  to  the  sheep  as  they  scuttled 
away  at  his  approach;  "ye  hev  got  the  very  spot  I 
want." 

They  huddled  together  as  he  crept  in  ;  two  or  three 
hastily  ran  out  upon  the  rocks,  —  only  a  little  frightened, 
for  they  began  presently  to  nibble  the  grass  growing  in 
the  rifts.  He  lay  down,  pillowing  his  head  upon  his  arm, 
and  turning  his  eyes  on  the  scene  without.  He  could  see 
far  below  into  the  depths  of  Hazel  Valley,  with  hill  and 
dale  in  undulatory  succession.  The  light  glanced  here 
and  there  on  the  minute  lines  of  a  zigzag  fence ;  on  a 
field  in  which  the  stark  and  girdled  trees  stood  in  every 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  73 

gaunt  attitude  of  despair ;  on  a  patch  striped  with  green 
where  tobacco  grew  in  orderly  ranks,  —  all  amongst  the 
dense  forests,  upon  which  these  tiny  suggestions  of  civili- 
zation seemed  only  some  ephemeral  incident,  ineffective, 
capable  of  slightest  significance.  Beyond,  the  wooded 
mountains  rose  in  the  densities  of  unbroken  primeval 
wilderness,  with  irregular  summit-lines,  with  graduating 
tones  from  bronze-green  to  blue-gray,  with  a  solemnity 
that  even  the  sunshine  did  not  abate.  Still  further,  the 
Great  Smoky,  veiled  with  mist  and  vague  with  distance, 
stood  high  against  the  sky,  —  so  high  that  but  for  the 
familiar  changeless  outline  it  must  have  seemed  the  fic- 
tion of  the  clouds. 

The  sheep  came  back  and  crowded  about  him,  —  he 
lay  so  still.  Once  he  was  conscious  of  their  motion  ;  he 
intended  to  rouse  himself  in  a  moment  and  drive  them 
off.  And  once  afterward  he  was  vaguely  aware  of  the 
tinkle  of  the  bell.  Then  he  heard  no  more. 

The  afternoon  wore  on.  The  sunlight  deepened  to 
orange  and  burned  to  red.  The  mountains  were  all 
garbed  in  purple.  The  sky  above  that  splendid  summit- 
line  of  the  Great  Smoky  caught  the  reflection  from  the 
west  and  was  delicately  roseate.  Cow-bells  were  clank- 
ing in  Hazel  Valley,  faintly,  faintly.  A  star,  most  serene, 
was  at  the  zenith. 

The  sheep  in  the  dark  niche  of  the  crags  stirred,  and 
huddled  together  again,  and  were  quiet.  The  moon  came 
and  looked  coyly  in,  as  if  she  sought  Endymion.  The 
face  of  the  mountaineer,  its  reckless  spirit  all  spent,  was 
gentle  and  young  in  the  soft,  shy  light. 

All  at  once  he  was  awake.  The  sheep  were  crowding 
timorously  about  him.  A  voice  broke  with  sudden  dis- 
cord into  the  harmonies  of  the  night. 

"  Nuthin'  but  sheep,  I  reckon." 

There  was  a  great  scuffling  among  the  rocks  and 
bushes,  and  Mink  ventured  to  lift  his  head. 

He  saw  the  mist-filled  valley  below  ;  the  glister  of  the 
moon  in  the  skies  above ;  the  infinite  expanse  of  moun- 
tain forms  all  along  the  background ;  and  in  the  stony 


THE   CLOUDS. 


road  on  the  verge  of  the  precipice  an  equestrian  group 
standing  motionless  in  shadow  and  sheen. 

He  recognized  the  sheriff  of  the  county  among  them, 
and  the  constable  from  Piomingo  Cove  was  in  the  act  of 
clambering  up  the  rocks. 


V. 

THE  officer  laid  his  hand  on  the  jagged  lower  ledge  of 
the  niche.  His  hat  and  its  shadow,  like  some  double- 
headed  monster,  slowly  appeared  above  the  verge  as  he 
climbed  the  crag.  The  sheep  shrank  back  precipitately 
into  the  cavernous  place,  their  hoofs  crowding  over  the 
young  mountaineer.  He  lay  at  full  length  in  motionless 
suspense. 

There  was  a  moment's  pause.  A  cloud  crossed  the 
moon.  Its  shadow  fell  in  Hazel  Valley.  A  gust  of  wind 
stole  along  the  mountain  slopes,  sighing  as  it  went,  as  if 
its  errand  were  of  sorrow.  Then,  silence.  The  brilliant 
lustre  burst  forth  again,  suffusing  the  heights  above  and 
the  depths  so  far  below.  In  the  midst  of  the  craggy 
steeps  the  huddled  sheep  looked  mildly  down,  with 
bright,  apprehensive  eyes,  at  the  constable. 

"Nuthin'  but  sheep,"  he  said,  scanning  the  interior  of 
the  niche. 

It  seemed  to  Mink,  hidden  by  his  fleecy  comrades, 
that  the  stone  walls  of  his  refuge  resounded  with  the 
loud  throbbing  6f  his  heart,  which  must  betray  him. 

"  D'  ye  reckon,"  said  the  sheriff  below,  "  ez  that  wo- 
man could  hev  made  a  mistake  'bout  hevin'  seen  him  on 
this  road  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Beale  knows  Mink  Lorey  ez  well  ez  I  do,"  de- 
clared the  constable. 

"  Mought  hev  been  foolin'  us  some,"  suggested  the 
sheriff,  suspiciously. 

"  She  hain't  got  no  call,"  the  constable  reasoned.  As 
he  partly  stood  on  a  sharp  projection,  and  partly  hung 
by  one  arm  to  the  ledges  of  the  niche,  he  took  a  plug  of 
tobacco  from  his  pocket  and  perilously  gnawed  at  it. 


76  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  Waal,  I  reckon  he  ain't  round  hyar-abouts,"  said  the 
sheriff,  with  an  intonation  of  disappointment.  "  We  hed 
better  push  on." 

The  double-headed  monster,  chewing  as  he  went,  the 
action  reproduced  in  frightful  pantomime  on  the  floor  of 
the  cavern,  slowly  withdrew.  There  was  heavy  breath- 
ing ;  the  sound  of  falling  clods  and  fragments  of  rock, 
and  of  straining  bushes  and  roots  as  the  descending  offi- 
cer clutched  them.  A  sudden  final  thud  announced  that 
he  had  sprung  upon  his  feet  on  level  ground. 

A  momentary  interval,  a  clatter  of  hoofs,  and  the  file 
of  horsemen,  with  their  mounted  shadows  erect  upon  the 
vertical  cliffs  of  the  rock-bound  road,  passed  slowly  along 
the  wild,  narrow  way.  Long  after  they  had  disappeared 
the  sound  of  the  hoof-beats  intruded  upon  the  stillness, 
and  died  away,  and  again  smote  the  air  writh  dull  itera- 
tion, reverberating  from  distant  crags  of  the  winding 
road. 

When  all  was  still,  Mink's  mind  turned  again  to  his 
perplexities  with  a  sharpened  sense  of  the  necessity  of 
decision.  The  project  which  Alethea  had  suggested  be- 
gan to  shape  itself  in  his  mind  in  full  detail,  as  he  lay 
there  and  thought  it  over.  The  alternative  of  skulking 
about  to  avoid  arrest  was  too  doubtful  and  limited  to  be 
contemplated. 

"  The  sheriff  air  a-ridin'  now,"  he  said,  "  an'  the  con- 
stable too  —  an'  what  made  'em  fetch  along  fower  other 
men  ez  a  posse?  "  he  broke  off  suddenly,  recognizing  the 
incongruity. 

His  lip  curled  with  satisfaction.  "  They  mus'  hev 
been  powerful  'feared  o'  me,"  he  said,  his  heart  swelling 
with  self-importance,  "  ter  think  't  would  take  six  men 
ter  arrest  me  fur  a  leetle  job  like  that." 

He  appreciated,  however,  that  the  midnight  caper  at 
the  mill  had  shaken  all  the  securities  of  the  mountain 
community,  and  it  was  to  the  immediate  personal  inter- 
est of  every  man  within  twenty  miles  that  he  should  be 
dealt  with  as  harshly  as  the  law  would  allow.  But  if, 
he  argued,  without  waiting  for  arrest,  he  should  go  down 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  77 

to-morrow,  —  not  to  old  Griff  (bold  as  he  was,  he  hardly 
dared  encounter  the  miller's  rage),  but  to  some  man  of 
influence,  some  mediator,  old  Squire  White,  perhaps,  — 
and  tell  what  he  had  done,  and  offer  in  reparation  to 
give  the  miller  all  he  possessed,  his  mare,  his  gun,  his 
hogs,  might  he  not  thus  avert  the  more  serious  phases  of 
a  prosecution,  or  perhaps  escape  altogether  ? 

Turn  as  he  might,  he  could  see  only  the  sacrifice  of 
his  little  all  as  the  price  of  his  orgy. 

"  I  'd  hev  ter  pay  it  ter  the  lawyer  ter  defend  me ;  or 
mebbe  old  Griff  could  git  it  out'n  me  ez  damages  enny- 
how.  I  can't  holp  losing  it.  1 11  gin  it  up,  an'  begin 
over,  an'  make  it  up  with  Lethe,  —  I  don't  keer  a  straw 
fur  all  the  t'others,  —  an'  git  married  an'  be  stiddy.  I 
never  war  so  wild  nohow  when  me  an'  her  war  promised. 
Mebbe  bein'  jawed  at,  an'  sech,  air  good  fur  folks,  an' 
holped  ter  keep  me  quiet  in  them  days,  —  leastwise  ez 
quiet  ez  I  war  able  ter  be,"  he  qualified,  the  recollection 
of  sundry  active  vagaries  constraining  him. 

Although  doubts  and  fears  still  lurked  in  his  mind,  he 
found  himself  waiting  for  dawn,  not  with  hope  or  impa- 
tience, but  with  the  dull  resolution  of  reluctant  decision. 
He  could  hardly  have  said  why,  but  he  experienced  a 
disappointment  as  he  noted  the  weather  signs.  The 
mists  thickened  and  pervaded  the  moonbeams  in  gigan- 
tic wavering  spectral  effects.  Over  toward  the  Great 
Smoky  they  slowly  tended,  those  veiled  mystic  figures, 
with  diaphanous  trailing  garments,  and  with  sometimes 
a  lifted  hand  as  if  to  swear  by  the  heaven  it  almost 
touched.  He  watched  the  throngs  grow  denser,  lose  the 
similitude  of  individuality,  take  on  the  aspect  of  lower- 
ing clouds.  The  moonbeams  glittered  faintly  and  failed. 
When  the  day  broke  at  last,  the  light  expressed  itself 
only  in  the  dull  visibility  of  the  enveloping  vapors.  Not 
the  depths  of  Hazel  Valley,  not  the  slopes  of  Big  Injun 
Mounting,  could  be  seen  as  he  clambered  out  of  the 
niche  and  down  upon  the  road.  Even  the  log  at  its 
verge  serving  as  a  curb  seemed  a  sort  of  defense  against 
the  usurping  immateriality  which  had  engulfed  the  rest 


78  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

of  the  world.  He  heard  the  moisture  dripping  from  the 
summit  of  the  craggy  heights ;  sometimes,  too,  the  quick, 
tumultuous  patter  of  a  shower  in  Hazel  Valley,  as  if  a 
cloud  had  lost  its  balance  on  the  brink  of  the  mountain 
and  had  fallen  into  the  depths  beneath. 

He  trudged  along,  seeing  nothing  but  the  blank  in- 
expressiveness  of  the  encompassing  fog,  with  only  the 
vaguest  divination  of  the  locality  and  the  distance. 

"  I  would  n't  feel  so  weighted  ef  the  weather  would 
clear,"  he  said. 

Once  he  paused,  suddenly  recollecting  that  the  county 
court  was  in  session,  and  that  Squire  White  was  doubt- 
less at  Shaftesville.  When  he  thought  of  the  unaccus- 
tomed scenes  of  the  town,  the  people,  their  questions  and 
comments,  he  wavered  again.  Then  he  remembered 
Alethea.  "  She  'lowed  't  would  be  jestice  an'  the  bes' 
ez  I  could  do  ennyhows,  an'  somehows  the  critter  'pears 
ter  be  right  in  her  jedgmints.  So  I  reckon  1 11  jes'  'bide 
by  Lethe's  word." 

Presently  the  mists  began  to  lift.  He  could  see  along 
the  green  aisles  of  the  forest  how  they  wavered  and 
shifted  in  the  tops  of  the  trees.  Everywhere  the  flowers 
were  blooming,  —  the  trumpet  blossom  and  the  jewel- 
weed,  the  delicate  lilac  "Christmas  flower,"  the  "moun- 
tain snow,"  the  red  cardinal  blossoms,  and,  splendid  illu- 
mination of  the  woods,  the  Chilhowee  lily.  All  along 
the  wayside,  silvery  cascades  tumbled  over  the  rocks 
amongst  fantasies  of  ferns,  and  the  laurel  and  the  ivy 
crowded  the  banks  of  the  torrent.  When  he  was  fairly 
in  the  valley,  fences  bordered  the  road,  with  poke-berries 
darkly  glittering  in  corners  crowded  with  weeds.  He 
was  nearing  Shaftesville  now.  A  little  house  appeared 
here  and  there,  a  stretch  of  open  land,  stacks  of  fodder, 
an  occasional  passer. 

High  up  in  the  air  were  suggestions  of  sunshine,  yel- 
low, diffusive,  but  not  penetrating  the  vapors  below.  All 
at  once  the  beams  burst  through.  The  mists  dallied  for 
a  moment  longer;  then  with  a  suggestion  of  spreading 
wings  they  rose  in  slow,  shining,  ethereal  flights.  Among 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  79 

them,  as  he  skirted  the  crest  of  a  hill,  appeared  the  roofs 
of  the  little  town,  the  tower  of  the  court-house,  the  church 
steeple,  all  dissolving  into  invisibility  like  some  vain  va- 
gary of  the  mist,  as  he  descended  into  the  intervenient 
dale. 

The  grass-grown  streets  were  astir  with  jeans-clad 
countrymen  already  in  with  wagons  drawn  by  oxen,  or 
with  a  flock  of  bleating  sheep  running  helter-skelter,  and 
demonstrating  their  bucolic  proclivities  by  a  startling  lack 
of  adaptation  to  the  thoroughfares  of  Shaftesville  ;  a  few 
loungers  were  sitting  on  the  barrels  and  boxes  in  front 
of  the  doors  of  the  stores ;  Mink  met  no  one  he  knew  as 
he  went.  One  man  on  the  rickety  steps  of  the  court- 
house knew  him,  perhaps,  for  he  looked  hard  at  him  as 
he  passed ;  then  turned  and  stared  after  him  with  an  ex- 
pression which  Mink  could  hardly  analyze.  He  scowled 
fiercely  in  return,  and  took  his  way  into  the  room  in 
which  several  of  the  justices  sat,  amicably  chatting  to- 
gether, for  the  day's  proceedings  had  not  yet  been  inau- 
gurated. With  a  sudden  irritation  and  bewilderment 
Mink  beheld  upon  each  countenance,  the  moment  they 
caught  sight  of  him,  the  same  amazed  intentness  which 
had  characterized  the  look  of  the  man  on  the  steps.  He 
felt  a  sort  of  dull  ache  in  his  heart,  a  turbulence  in  his 
blood  pulsing  fast,  a  heavy,  dazed  consciousness  which 
gave  the  scene  the  dim  unreality  of  a  dream :  the  sun- 
shine, pale  and  flickering,  outlining  the  panes  of  the  win- 
dows on  the  dirty  floor ;  the  stove,  that  stood  in  its  place 
winter  and  summer  ;  the  circle  of  bearded,  jeans-clad 
justices,  all  their  faces  turned  toward  him,  seeming  not 
unlike,  with  the  same  expression  upon  each. 

Mink  began  abruptly,  but  with  an  effort,  addressing 
the  chairman.  "  I  kem  over  hyar,  Squair,"  he  said, 
"  'kase  I  wanter  leave  ter  men  what  I  done.  I  ain't 
goin'  ter  hide  nuthin'  nor  run  away  from  nuthin'.  I 
ain't  sayin'  what  I  done  war  right,  but  I'm  willin'  ter 
abide  by  my  deed  ez  fur  ez  leavin'  it  ter  men,  an' 
furder." 

He  was  fluent  now.    There  was  an  exhilaration  in  this 


80  7AT  THE   CLOUDS. 

close  attention  from  these  men  whom  he  esteemed  mighty 
in  the  law,  in  this  pose  of  importance  before  them,  in  the 
generosity  of  the  offer  he  was  about  to  make.  He  spoke 
responsive  to  the  respectful  surprise  with  which  his  fancy 
had  endowed  them. 

"  I  war  drunk,  Squair.  I  ain't  denyin'  it  none.  Naw, 
sir,  I  ain't." 

He  nodded  his  head,  and  pushed  his  broad  hat  further 
back  on  his  long,  auburn  locks. 

"  I  '11  jes'  tell  ye  how  it  war,  Squair."  He  shifted  his 
weight  upon  one  stalwart  leg,  and  bent  over  a  little,  and 
looked  down  meditatively  at  his  boots  as  he  arranged  his 
ideas  in  his  mind.  "  I  war  drunk,  Squair,"  he  reiterated, 
as  he  rose  once  more  to  the  perpendicular.  "  How  I 
kem  so,  it  don't  consarn  me  to  say.  But  me  an'  old  man 
Griff,  we  hed  hed  words  'bout  my  I'arnm'  Tad  ter  play 
'  five  corn  ' ;  he  'lowed  't  war  a  gamblin'  game,  —  mighty 
old-fashioned  game,  ye  know  yerself ,  Squair,  —  an'  ez  I 
kem  along  back  that  night  I  'lowed  I  'd  start  the  mill  an' 
see  him  run  out  skeered.  An'  I  dunno  what  I  clone  ter 
the  wheel,  but  it  jes'  seemed  ter  be  plumb  'witched  when 
I  lifted  the  gate.  It  jes'  performed  an'  cavorted  round 
like  it  hed  the  jim-jams ;  —  ye  never  seen  nuthin'  act  like 
it  done  sence  ye  war  born,  Squair.  An'  I  tried  ter  let 
the  gate  down,  but  war  plumb  shuck  off'n  the  race.  An' 
the  mill  begun  ter  shake,  Squair,  an'  fust  I  knowed  down 
it  went  inter  the  ruver.  An'  ez  I  seen  a  light  in  the  old 
man's  house  I  'lowed  he  war  a-comin'  fur  me."  He 
laughed  a  little.  "  Old  Griff  be  a  powerful  survigrous 
old  man  when  his  dander  hev  riz,  so  I  jes'  rid  off  ez  fas' 
ez  I  could." 

There  was  no  responsive  smile  upon  the  stony,  staring 
faces  turned  toward  him.  But  he  was  quite  at  ease  now. 
He  hardly  cared  to  notice  that  a  man  went  hurriedly  out 
of  the  room  and  came  back.  "  I  'm  mighty  sorry  fur  the 
old  man,  Squair,"  he  resumed,  "  surely  I  am.  An'  ter 
prove  it,  me  an'  the  gal  I  'm  a-goin'  ter  marry,  we-uns 
'greed  tergether  ez  I  'd  gin  him  my  mare,  an'  my  hogs, 
an'  a  gun,  an'  fower  sheep,  an'  'twould  build  him  an- 


IN   THE   CLOUDS.  81 

other  mill  better  'n  the  one  he  hed,  ef  he  could  git  the 
mill-stones  hefted.  I  'd  go  holp  myself." 

Still  not  a  word  from  the  justices.  Other  men  had 
begun  to  come  in.  They,  too,  stood  silently  listening. 
Mink  was  all  debonair  and  cheery  again,  so  fairly  had 
he  exploited  his  mission.  As  to  the  man  who  had  gone 
out  and  returned,  Mink  stared  hard  at  him,  for  he  was 
not  an  acquaintance,  yet  he  approached  and  held  out  his 
hand.  Mink  slowly  extended  his  own.  A  sudden  grip 
of  iron  encircled  the  unsuspecting  member ;  the  other 
hand  was  caught  in  a  rude  grasp.  A  harsh,  grating 
sound,  the  handcuffs  were  locked  upon  his  wrists,  and 
the  deputy  sheriff  lifted  a  countenance  scarlet  with  re- 
pressed excitement.  He  passed  his  hands  quickly  all 
along  the  prisoner's  side  to  make  sure  that  he  carried 
no  concealed  weapons,  then  ejaculated,  "  Now  ye  're  all 
right !  " 

The  young  mountaineer's  head  was  in  a  whirl.  His 
heart  beat  tumultuously.  His  voice  sounded  to  him  far 
away.  His  volition  seemed  to  rebel.  Surely  he  did  not 
utter  the  stammering,  incoherent,  foaming  curses  that 
he  heard.  They  terrified  him.  He  strove  with  futile 
strength  to  tear  off  these  fetters,  every  muscle  strained. 
For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he,  the  wild,  free  creature 
of  the  woods,  felt  the  bonds  of  constraint,  the  irking 
touch  of  a  man  he  could  not  strike.  Old  Squire  White, 
who  had  moved  out  of  the  way  with  an  agility  wonder- 
ful in  a  man  of  his  years,  exhorted  the  deputy  to  his 
duty. 

"  Ye  mus'  gin  him  the  reason  fur  his  arrest,  ez  he  hev 
axed  fur  it,  Mr.  Skeggs,  sech  bein'  the  law  o'  Tennessee. 
Ye  'd  better  tell  him,  sence  the  sher'ff  hev  kerried  off  the 
warrant,  that  he  air  arrested  fur  the  drownding  o'  Tad 
Simpkins." 

Mink  hardly  heard.  He  did  not  heed.  He  only  tore 
desperately  at  the  handcuffs,  every  cord  standing  out, 
every  vein  swelled  to  bursting;  stamping  wildly  about 
while  the  scuttling,  excited  crowd  nimbly  kept  out  of  his 
way.  He  turned  the  glare  of  reddened  eyes  upon  the 


82  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

deputy,  who  mechanically  repeated  the  justice's  words, 
still  following  the  prisoner  with  soothing  insistence.  Sud- 
denly Mink  made  a  burst  toward  the  door ;  he  was  seized 
by  a  dozen  willing  hands,  thrown  down  and  pinioned. 
He  fainted,  perhaps,  for  it  was  only  the  free  outer  air 
that  roused  him  to  the  knowledge  that  he  was  borne 
through  the  streets,  followed  by  a  gaping,  hooting  crowd, 
black  and  white.  Then  ensued  another  interval  of  un- 
consciousness. When  he  came  to  himself  he  stared 
blankly  at  his  unfamiliar  surroundings. 

He  was  alone.  He  felt  weak,  sore.  He  turned  his 
bewildered  eyes  toward  the  light.  The  window  was 
barred.  He  sprang  up  from  the  bed  on  which  he  lay, 
and  tried  the  door.  He  beat  upon  it  and  shouted  in 
baffled  rage.  Stealthy  footsteps  sounded  outside  from 
time  to  time,  excited  whispers,  and  once  a  low  titter. 

Somehow,  ridicule  conquered  him  as  force  could  not. 
He  slunk  back  to  the  bed,  and  there  he  lay  quiet,  that 
no  stir  might  come  to  the  mocker  without.  Sometimes 
he  would  lift  his  head  and  listen  with  a  sort  of  terror  for 
the  step,  for  the  suppressed  breathing,  for  the  low  laugh. 
Often  his  eyes  would  rest,  dilated,  fascinated,  on  the 
door.  Then  he  would  fall  back,  reviewing  futilely  the 
scenes  through  which  he  had  passed.  What  was  that 
strange  thing  they  had  said  ?  It  was  indistinct  for  a 
time ;  he  could  not  constrain  his  reluctant  credulity. 
But  those  terrible  words,  the  drowning  of  Tad  Simp- 
kins,  beset  his  memory,  and  came  back  to  him  again  and 
again.  And  then  he  recalled  that  weird  cry  from  out 
the  crash  of  the  falling  timbers  of  the  mill.  Could  the 
ill-treated  little  drudge  have  slept  there  ?  He  had  a 
vague  idea  that  he  had  once  heard  that  when  the  old 
man  was  angry  he  would  swear  that  he  would  not  give 
Tad  house-room,  and  would  cast  him  out  into  the  night, 
or  shut  him  into  the  mill  and  lock  the  door  upon  him. 
And  remembering  that  cry  of  despair,  so  anguished  an 
echo  rose  to  Mink's  lips  that  he  turned  and  buried  his 
head  in  the  pillow  because  of  the  scoffer  in  the  hall  with- 
out. 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  83 

The  room  darkened  gradually  ;  shadows  were  gloom- 
ing about  him.  The  moon  rose  after  a  time.  The  beams 
in  radiant  guise  came  slanting  in,  and  despite  the  bars 
stood  upon  the  floor,  a  lustrous  presence,  and  leaned 
against  the  wall.  It  reminded  him  of  the  angel  of  the 
Lord,  —  tall,  ethereal,  fair,  and  crowned  with  an  amaran- 
thine wreath,  —  who  burst  the  bars  and  appeared  to  the 
disciple  in  prison.  With  that  arrogation  of  all  spiritual 
bounties,  so  pathetically  human,  he  perceived  no  incon- 
gruity that  such  a  similitude  should  appear  to  him.  In 
some  sort  it  comforted  him.  It  moved  from  time  to 
time,  and  slowly  crossed,  pace  by  pace,  the  floor  of  the 
cell. 


VI. 

THAT  terrible  isolation  of  identity,  the  burden  of  in- 
dividuality which  every  man  must  bear  alone,  is  never  so 
poignantly  appreciated  as  when  some  anguish  falls  on  the 
solitary  soul,  while  those  who  would  wish  to  share  it  are 
unconscious  and  others  uncaring. 

News,  the  worldling,  was  never  a  pioneer,  and  hangs 
aloof  from  the  long  stretches  of  the  wildernesses  of  the 
Great  Smoky  Mountains.  It  seemed  afterward  to  Alethea 
that  she  had  lacked  some  normal  faculty,  to  have  been  so 
tranquilly  uncognizant,  so  heedlessly  placid,  in  the  days 
that  ensued.  The  glimpse  of  the  world  vouchsafed  to 
Wild-Cat  Hollow  was  silent,  peaceful,  steeped  in  the  full, 
languorous  sheen  of  the  midsummer  sun.  To  look  down 
upon  the  cove,  with  its  wooded  levels,  its  verdure,  its 
silver  glint  of  waters,  and  its  sheltering  mountains,  it 
might  have  seemed  only  the  scene  of  some  serenest  ec- 
logue —  especially  one  afternoon  when  the  red  west 
flung  roseate  tints  upon  the  strata  clouds  and  the  deli- 
cate intervenient  spaces  of  the  pale  blue  heavens,  and 
suffused  the  solemn  ranges  and  the  quiet  valley  with  a 
tender  glamour.  The  voices  projected  upon  this  mute 
placidity  had  a  strident  emphasis.  There  was  the  oc- 
casional clamor  of  guinea  -  fowls  about  the  barn,  and 
some  turkeys  were  flying  up  to  roost  on  the  naked  boughs 
of  a  dead  tree,  drawn  in  high  relief  and  sharp  detail 
against  the  sky ;  they  fluttered  down  often,  with  heavy 
wings,  and  ungainly  flappings,  and  discordant  cries,  in 


7.V  THE   CLOUDS.  85 

their  vain  efforts  to  settle  the  question  of  precedence  that 
harassed  them.  The  lowing  of  the  homeward-bound 
cows  had  fugue -like  communings  with  their  echoes. 
Alethea,  going  out  to  meet  them,  doubted  within  herself 
at  times  whether  they  had  crossed  the  mountain  stream 
that  coursed  through  Wild-Cat  Hollow.  The  blackberry 
brambles  swayed  full  fruited  above  it ;  in  the  lucid,  gol- 
den-brown, gravelly  depths  a  swift  shadow  darted,  turned, 
cleft  the  surface  with  a  fin,  and  was  gone.  A  great  skel- 
eton tree,  broken  half-way,  hollow  long  ago,  stood  on  the 
bank,  rotted  by  the  winter's  floods  that  ceaselessly  washed 
it  when  the  stream  was  high,  and  bleached  by  the  sum- 
mer's suns  to  a  bone-like  whiteness.  A  great  ball  of 
foam,  mysterious  sport  of  the  waters,  caught  in  an  eddy, 
was  whirling  giddily.  One  could  fancy  a  figure  of  some 
fine  ethereal  essence  might  just  have  been  veiled  within 
it.  The  woods,  dense,  tangled  with  vines,  sombre  with 
shadows,  bore  already  the  downcast  look  of  night. 
Alethea  eyed  them  languidly  as  she  came  down  to  the 
lower  fence,  her  piggin  on  her  head,  one  hand  staying 
it,  while  the  other  gave  surreptitious  aid  to  the  efforts  of 
L'onidas  and  Lucindy  to  take  down  the  bars,  as  they 
piqued  themselves  upon  rendering  her  this  stalwart  ser- 
vice. Tige  had  come  too,  and  now  and  then  he  pawed 
and  pranced  about  the  calves,  that  were  also  expectantly 
waiting  at  the  opening  of  the  inclosure.  One  of  them 
who  had  known  him  of  yore  only  lifted  his  ears  and 
fixed  a  remonstrant  stare  upon  him.  But  the  other, 
young  and  of  an  infantile  expression,  ran  nimbly  from 
him,  and  bleated  plaintively,  and  pressed  in  between 
Alethea  and  the  children,  in  imminent  danger  of  hav- 
ing his  brains  knocked  out  in  the  wild  handling  of  the 
bars. 

"  That 's  enough,"  she  drawled  presently,  moderating 
their  energies  ;  "  the  calf  '11  git  out  ef  ye  take  down  enny 
mo'.  The  cow  kin  step  over  sech  ez  be  left." 

The  faint  clanging  of  cow-bells  stirred  the  air.  The 
little  house  on  the  rise  at  one  side  was  darkly  brown 
against  the  irradiated  mountains  seen  in  the  narrow  vista 


86  /^V  THE  CLOUDS. 

of  the  gap.  The  martins  fluttered  from  the  pendulous 
gourds  and  circled  about  the  chimneys,  and  were  gone 
again.  The  sky  cast  its  bright  gold  about  the  Hollow, 
on  the  tow  heads  of  the  barefoot  children,  and  multiplied 
the  shimmers  in  the  swirls  of  the  stream. 

Alethea  looked  once  more  toward  it,  hearing  again  the 
far-off  lowing.  A  sudden  movement  attracted  her  "eye. 
Against  the  great  hollow  whitened  tree  a  man  was  lean- 
ing, whittling  a  stick  with  a  clasp-knife,  and  now  and 
then  furtively  eying  her. 

For  a  moment  she  did  not  move  a  muscle.  The  color 
surged  into  her  face,  and  receded,  leaving  it  paler  than 
before.  A  belated  humming-bird,  its  breast  a  glistening 
green,  beat  the  air  with  its  multiplied  suggestions  of 
gauzy  wings  close  to  her  golden  head,  and  was  gone  like 
a  flash.  The  children  babbled  on.  Tige  was  afraid  of 
a  stick  which  L'onidas  had  brought  to  keep  off  the  calf 
while  the  cow  was  milked,  and  he  yelped  before  he  was 
struck,  without  prejudice  to  yelping  afterward. 

The  man  presently  drew  himself  erect,  closed  his 
knife  with  a  snap,  and  walked  up  slowly  toward  the 
fence. 

"  Howdy,"  he  said,  as  he  came. 

She  leaned  one  elbow  on  the  rails,  and  with  the  other 
hand  she  held  the  empty  piggin.  She  only  nodded  in 
return. 

He  had  an  embarrassed,  deprecatory  manner.  He 
was  tall  and  lank,  and  clumsy  of  gait.  He  had  an  in- 
different, good-natured  expression,  incongruous  with  the 
gleam  of  anxiety  in  his  eye.  His  face  was  almost  cov- 
ered by  a  long,  straggling  brown  beard. 

"  What  made  ye  run  off  so  t'  other  night  down  yander 
ter  Boke's  Spring  ?  I  hed  a  word  ter  say  ter  ye." 

"  I  war  sorry  I  seen  ye." 

He  fixed  a  keen  look  upon  her. 

"What  fur?" 

"  I  did  n't  want  ter  know  who  't  war  a-moonshinin'," 
she  said. 

"  Waal,  ye  air  the  only  one,"  he  declared. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  87 

He  looked  about  him  dubiously. 

"  I  ain't  keerin'  none/'  he  added.  "  Me  an'  yer 
mother  war  kin  somehow ;  I  disremember  how,  edzac'ly 
—  through  the  Scruggses,  I  reckon.  Ef  she  war  alive 
she  'd  gin  ye  the  word  ez  she  air  kin  ter  Sam  Marvin, 
sure.  Nobody  ain't  'spicioned  nuthin'  'bout  moonshinin' 
but  you-uns,  'cept  them  ez  be  in  it." 

He  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and  leaned  against 
the  fence.  The  clanking  of  the  cow-bell  was  nearer. 
The  little  calf  bleated,  and  thrust  its  soft  head  over  the 
bars. 

"  I  wanted  ter  say  a  word  ter  ye,"  he  continued,  still 
more  ill  at  ease  because  of  her  silence.  "  I  seen  ye  coin- 
in'  along  o'  all  them  chill'n,"  nodding  at  Leonidas  and 
Lucinda,  who  seemed  to  deserve  being  accounted  more 
numerous  than  they  were,  having  engaged  in  a  wordy 
altercation  over  the  bars  ;  the  little  fellow  dragging  them 
off  to  some  special  spot  which  he  had  chosen,  of  occult 
advantage,  while  the  girl,  older  and  wiser,  insisted  that 
they  should  lie  handy  where  they  were.  Only  Tige  lis- 
tened to  the  conversation,  slowly  wagging  his  tail.  "  I 
'lowed  I  could  n't  talk  ter  ye  'thout  bein'  hendered,  but 
I  reckon  I  '11  try.  I  'm  kin  ter  ye,  —  that  be  a  true 
word.  An'  I  'm  moonshinin'.  Ye  ain't  tole  nobody 
'bout  seein'  me  an'  the  jug  thar  in  Boke's  barn  ?  " 

He  fixed  his  eyes,  eager  with  the  query,  upon  her 
face. 

She  slowly  shook  her  head  in  negation. 

"  An'  ye  won't,  eh  ?  " 

He  smiled  beguilingly,  showing  his  long,  tobacco- 
stained  teeth. 

"  Ef  nobody  axes  me." 

His  countenance  fell  suddenly. 

"  Look-a-hyar,  Lethe  Sayles,  don't  ye  fool  with  me, 
a-doublin'  on  yer  words  like  a  fox  on  his  tracks,"  he  said 
roughly.  Then,  more  temperately,  "  I  'm  afeard  o'  that 
very  thing,  —  ef  somebody  axes  ye." 

"  'T  ain't  likely,"  said  Alethea. 

"  I  dunno,"  he  insisted,  wagging  his  big  head  in  doubt- 
ful pantomime.  "  I  want  ye  ter  'low  ye  won't  tell." 


88  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"I  don't  b'lieve  in  sech  ez  moonshinin'  an'  drinkin' 
liquor." 

"What  fur?"  he  demanded,  with  an  air  of  being 
ready  for  argument. 

"  'T  ain't  religion." 

"  Shucks  !  "  exclaimed  Sam  Marvin  contemptuously. 
u  D'  ye  reckon  ef  't  war  n't  religion  I  'd  plant  corn  an' 
raise  my  own  damnation,  an'  sit  an'  bile  wrath,  an'  still 
fury,  an'  yearn  Torment,  by  sech?  Naw,  sir!  Ye 
oughter  go  hear  the  rider  read  the  Bible :  every  one  o' 
them  disciples  drunk  low  wines  in  them  days,  an'  hed  it 
at  weddin's  an'  sech ;  the  low  wines  is  on  every  page." 

Alethea  was  for  a  moment  overborne  by  this  argu- 
ment. 

Then,  "  'T  ain't  right,"  persisted  the  zealot  of  Wild- 
Cat  Hollow. 

"  Will  ye  listen  at  the  gal !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  angry 
apostrophe.  But  controlling  himself,  he  added  quietly, 
"  Ye  let  older  heads  'n  yourn  jedge,  Lethe.  Yer  brains 
ain't  ripened  yit,  an'  livin'  off  in  Wild-Cat  Hollow  ye 
ain't  hed  much  chance  ter  see  an'  1'arn.  Yer  elders 
knows  bes'.  That 's  what  the  Bible  says." 

Down  the  shadowy  vista  of  the  path  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  stream  the  long  horns  and  slowly  nodding 
heads  of  the  cows  appeared.  The  little  calf  frisked  with 
nimble  joy  on  legs  that  seemed  hardly  bovine  in  their 
agility.  Lucinda  ran  to  bring  the  pail  of  bran,  and 
Leonidas  produced  a  handful  of  salt  in  a  small  gourd. 
The  moonshiner  saw  that  his  time  was  short. 

"  What  ails  ye,  ter  think  't  ain't  right,  Lethe  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Look  how  good-f ur-nuthin'  it  makes  Jacob  Jessnp, 
an'  —  an'  Mink  Lorey,  an'  all  them  boys  in  Piomingo 
Cove." 

"  It 's  thar  own  fault,  not  the  good  liquor's.  Look  at 
me.  I  ain't  good-fur-nuthin'.  Ever  see  me  drunk  ? 
How  be  I  a-goin'  ter  keer  fur  sech  a  houseful  ez  we-uns 
hev  got  'thout  stillin'  the  corn  ?  Can't  sell  the  corn  'n 
the  apples  nuther,  an'  can't  raise  nuthin'  else  on  the  side 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  89 

o'  the  mounting,  an'  I  'm  too  pore  ter  own  Ian'  in  the 
cove." 

The  cows  were  fording  the  stream.  The  water  foamed 
about  their  flanks.  Their  breath  was  sweet  with  the 
mountain  grasses. 

He  looked  at  Alethea,  suspiciously. 

"  Ye  ain't  goiri'  ter  promise  me  ye  won't  tell  ef  ye  be 
axed?  "  he  said,  with  an  air  of  finality. 

In  her  heart  the  compact  of  secrecy  was  already  se- 
cure. Somehow  she  withheld  the  assurance.  It  was  all 
wrong,  she  felt.  And  if  in  fear  he  should  desist,  so  much 
the  safer  for  him,  so  much  the  better  would  the  com- 
munity fare. 

"  I  ain't  a-goin'  ter  promise  nuthin',"  she  said,  slowly, 
her  lustrous  eyes  full  upon  his  face.  "  I  ain't  goin'  ter 
do  nuthin'  ter  holp  along  what  ain't  right." 

"  Waal,  then,  Lethe  Sayles,  ye  jes'  'member  ez  ye  war 
warned,"  he  said,  in  a  low,  vehement  voice,  between  his 
set  teeth,  and  coming  up  close  to  her.  "  An'  ef  ever  we- 
uns  air  fund  out  an'  raided,  we-uns  will  keep  in  mind  ez 
nobody  knowed  but  you-uns  ;  an'  whether  we  be  dragged 
off  ter  jail  an'  our  still  cut  up  an'  sech  or  no,  ye  won't 
git  off  scot-free.  Ye  mark  my  words.  Ye  air  warned." 

She  had  shrunk  from  his  glittering  eyes  and  angry 
gestures.  Nevertheless,  she  struck  back  with  ready  sar- 
casm. 

"Then,  mebbe  I  won't  tell,"  she  said,  in  her  soft 
drawl,  "fur  I  be  toler'ble  easy  skeered." 

He  stared  at  her  in  the  gathering  dusk ;  then  turned, 
and  took  his  way  across  the  mossy  log  that  bridged  the 
stream  and  down  the  path  through  the  woods. 

For  a  moment  she  had  an  overwhelming  impulse  to 
call  him  back.  Long  afterward  she  had  cause  to  remem- 
ber its  urgency.  Now  she  only  leaned  upon  the  rail 
fence,  even  her  golden  hair  dim  in  the  closing  shadows, 
and  gazed  with  uncomprehended  wistfulness  after  him 
as  he  disappeared  down  the  path,  and  reappeared  in  a 
rift  of  the  foliage,  and  once  more  disappeared  finally. 

And  here  the  cow's  great  head  was  thrust  over  the 


90  /AT  THE   CLOUDS. 

bars,  and  L'onidas  was  on  hand  in  full  force  to  engage 
in  combat  with  the  little  calf,  and  Lucindy  was  alert  with 
the  bucket  of  bran.  All  through  the  milking  Alethea 
was  sensible  of  a  yearning  regret  in  her  heart.  And  al- 
though she  had  the  testimony  of  good  conscience  and 
could  say  in  full  faith,  "  'T  ain't  right,"  she  was  not  con- 
soled. 

She  lifted  the  pail  of  milk  to  her  head,  and  as  they 
went  back  to  the  log  cabin  the  moon  projected  their  gro- 
tesque shadows  as  a  vanguard,  and  for  all  Leonidas  ran 
he  could  not  overtake  the  quaint  little  man  that  led  the 
way. 

Stars  were  in  the  sky,  aloof  from  the  moon.  A  mock- 
ing-bird sang  on  an  elder-bush  among  the  blossoms,  fra- 
grant and  white ;  and  from  time  to  time,  as  he  joyously 
lifted  his  scintillating  wings,  the  boughs  seemed,  enriched 
with  some  more  radiant  bloom.  The  rails  of  the  fence 
had  a  subdued  glimmer,  —  the  moonlight  on  the  dew. 

Her  heart,  with  its  regretful  disquiet,  was  out  of  har- 
mony with  the  nocturnal  peace  of  the  scene ;  she  had 
somehow  an  intimation  of  an  impending  sorrow  before 
she  heard  the  sound  of  sobbing  from  the  porch. 

The  vines  that  clambered  about  it  were  drawn  upon 
the  floor  with  every  leaf  and  tendril  distinct.  The  log 
cabin  was  idealized  in  some  sort  with  the  silver  lustre  of 
the  moon,  the  glister  of  the  dew,  the  song  of  the  bird, 
and  the  splendid  suggestions  of  the  benighted  landscape  ; 
yet  there  was  the  homely  loom,  the  spinning-wheel  and 
its  shadow,  the  cat  in  the  doorway,  with  the  dull  illumi- 
nation of  the  smouldering  fire  behind  her,  eying  a  swift, 
volant  shadow  that  slipped  in  and  out  noiselessly,  and  per- 
haps was  a  bat.  A  group  of  figures  stood  in  the  tense 
attitudes  of  listening  surprise.  But  a  girl  had  flung  her- 
self upon  the  bench  of  the  loom,  now  leaning  against  the 
frame  and  weeping  aloud,  and  now  sitting  erect  and  talk- 
ing with  broken  volubility. 

"  Hyar  be  Elviry  Crosby,"  Mrs.  Sayles  said,  as  Ale- 
thea stepped  upon  the  porch  and  set  the  piggin  on  the 
shelf. 

The  visitor  looked  up,  with  her  dark  eyes  glistening 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  91 

with  tears.  Her  face  was  pale  in  the  moonbeams.  She 
had  short  dark  hair,  thin  and  fine,  showing  the  shape  of 
her  delicate  head,  and  lying  in  great  soft  rings  about  her 
brow  and  neck.  As  she  spoke,  her  quivering  red  lips  ex- 
hibited the  small,  regular  white  teeth.  She  was  slight 
and  about  the  medium  height,  and  habited  in  a  yellowish 
dress,  from  which  the  moonlight  did  not  annul  the  idea 
of  color. 

"  I  ain't  got  no  gredge  agin  Lethe,"  she  said,  gazing  at 
her  with  a  certain  intentness,  "  but  I  hev  got  my  feelin's, 
an'  I  hev  got  my  pride,  an'  I  ain't  goin'  ter  hev  no  jail- 
bird a-settin'  up  ter  me  !  I  'm  sorry  I  ever  seen  him !  " 
she  declared,  with  a  fresh  burst  of  tears,  throwing  her- 
self back  against  the  loom.  "  But  ez  Lethe  never  hed 
nobody  else,  she  mought  put  up  with  the  raccoon  ez  he 
fetched  me,  —  fur  I  won't  gin  the  critter  house-room, 
now." 

As  Alethea  gazed  at  her,  amazed  and  uncomprehend- 
ing, a  sudden  movement  on  the  loom  caught  her  atten- 
tion. About  the  clumsy  beams  a  raccoon  was  climbing 
nimbly,  turning  his  eyes  upon  her,  full  of  the  peculiar 
brightness  of  the  night-roaming  beast.  She  noticed  his 
grin  as  he  hung  above  the  group,  as  if  he  perceived  in 
the  situation  humor  of  special  zest. 

"  I  ain't  a-goin'  ter  keep  it !  "  cried  Elvira.  "  All  the 
kentry  will  be  tellin',  ennyhow,  ez  I  hev  kep'  company 
with  a  murderer."  A  low,  muffled  cry  escaped  from 
Alethea's  lips.  "  He  kern  a-makin'  up  ter  me  till  I  went 
an'  turned  off  Pete  Rood,  ez  war  mad  ez  hops.  I  can't 
hender  'em  from  knowin'  it.  But  I  ain't  a-goin'  ter  hev 
that  thar  spiteful  leetle  beast  a-grinnin'  at  me  'bout'n 
it,  like  he  war  makin'  game  o'  me  fur  bein'  sech  a  fool. 
I  'd  hev  killed  it,  'ceptin'  I  'lowed  thar  hed  been  enough 
onnecessary  killin'  along  o'  Mink  Lorey." 

"  Elviry !  "  exclaimed  Alethea,  her  voice  so  tense,  so 
vibrant,  so  charged  with  anguish,  that,  low  as  it  was,  it 
thrilled  the  stillness  as  a  shriek  might  hardly  do,  "  what 
hev  Reuben  done  ?  " 

"  Oh,  '  Reuben,'  ez  ye  calls  him,"  cried  the  other,  sit- 


92  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

ting  upright  on  the  bench  of  the  loom,  her  dark  eyes 
flashing  and  dry,  —  "  yer  fine  Reuben  tore  down  old 
Griff's  mill,  an'  drownded  his  nevy,  Tad,  an'  war  put  in 
jail,  an'  air  goin'  ter  be  tried,  an'  hung,  I  reckon.  That 's 
what  '  Reuben  '  done  !  He  's  Mink  by  name  an'  Mink 
by  natur'  —  an'  oh  !  I  wish  I  hed  never  seen  him." 

She  once  more  leaned  on  the  loom  behind  her,  and 
bowed  her  head  on  her  hands. 

"  No  !  —  no  !  "  cried  Alethea.  She  caught  her  breath 
in  quick  gasps ;  for  one  moment  she  seemed  losing  con- 
sciousness. The  mountains  in  the  background,  the  faint 
stars  in  the  sky,  the  shadowy  roof,  the  swaying  vines,  the 
raccoon  in  their  midst  with  his  grotesque  grin,  were  before 
her  suddenly  as  if  she  had  just  awakened.  She  had  sunk 
into  a  chair. 

"  Ye  kin  call  me  a  liar  !  So  do  !  "  cried  Elvira,  lift- 
ing her  head  defiantly.  "  But  he  went  hisself  down  ter 
the  court-house  an'  told  it  hisself,  an'  wanted  ter  gin  his 
gun  an'  mare  ef  they  'd  let  him  off."  She  laughed  —  a 
dainty  little  laugh  of  scorn.  "  That 's  what  he  'lowed 
the  idjit  war  wuth.  But  my  dad  'lows  ez  the  law  sets 
store  on  the  idjit's  life  same  ez  folks  ginerally." 

Alethea  felt  as  if  she  were  turning  to  stone.  Was  it 
her  advice  that  had  led  him  into  danger  ?  Was  it  her 
fatal  insistence  that  he  should  see  the  right  as  it  was  re- 
vealed to  her  ? 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  the  eager  questions  crowding 
to  her  lips. 

"  Ye  shet  up,  Lethe  !  "  said  her  step-mother,  enter- 
tained by  the  unwonted  spectacle  of  Elvira's  dramatic 
grief,  and  not  caring  to  hear  again  the  news  of  the  trag- 
edy already  recited.  As  to  Mink,  he  had  only  been  over- 
taken by  the  disasters  which  must  have  fallen  upon  him 
sooner  or  later,  and  he  was  in  many  ways  a  good  rid- 
dance. This  phase  was  uppermost  in  her  mind  when 
she  said,  "Ye  see  now  what  gals  git  fur  goin'  agin  thar 
elders'  word.  I  '11  be  bound,  Elviry,  't  war  n't  yer  moth- 
er's ch'ice  fur  ye  ter  take  Mink  an'  gin  Pete  Rood  the 
go-by." 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  93 

"  That  it  war  n't !  "  cried  the  repentant  Elvira,  with  a 
gush  of  tears.  "  I  wish  I  hed  bided  by  her  word  !  I 
reckon  I  war  born  lackin' !  I  hev  been  sech  a  fool !  " 

Mrs.  Sayles  turned  to  look  at  Alethea  and  nod  her 
head  in  triumphant  confirmation.  Then  she  remarked 
consolingly,  "  Waal,  waal,  I  reckon  ye  kin  toll  Pete  Rood 
back." 

"  I  dunno,"  sobbed  Elvira.  "  I  met  him  yestiddy  at 
the  cross-roads  in  Piomingo  Cove,  an'  he  jes'  turned  his 
head  aside  an'  walked  by  'thout  nare  word.  I  wish  — 
oh,  I  wish  I  hed  never  seen  that  thar  minkish  Mink." 

"  Waal,"  said  Mrs.  Sayles,  who  was  very  human,  and 
who,  despite  her  sympathy  for  Elvira,  had  a  rankling 
recollection  of  her  taunt  for  Alethea's  paucity  of  the  ma- 
terial for  "  keeping  company,"  "  I  hopes  Lethe  '11  take 
warnin',  an'  not  fling  away  her  good  chance,  fur  the  sake 
o'  the  wuthless,  like  Mink  an*  sech." 

"  Who  be  her  good  chance  ?  "  exclaimed  Elvira,  the 
jealousy  nourished  on  general  principles  checking  her 
grief. 

"  Shucks,  child  !  ye  purtendin'  not  ter  know  ez  Ben 
Doaks  hev  mighty  nigh  wore  out  his  knee-pans  a-beggm' 
an'  a-prayin'  Lethe  ter  listen  ter  him  !  " 

Elvira  was  meeker  after  this,  and  presently  rose  to 
go. 

"  I  hed  ter  kem  arter  dark,  else  I  could  n't  hev  hed 
Sam  an'  the  mare,  bein'  ez  she  hev  been  workin'  in  the 
field  ter-day,"  she  remarked. 

There  was  the  mare  dozing  at  the  gate,  and  Sam,  a 
boy  with  singularly  long  legs  and  arms,  looking  some- 
thing like  an  insect  of  the  genus  Tipula,  was  waiting  too. 
She  mounted  behind  him,  and  together  they  rode  off  in 
the  moonlight,  taking  their  way  over  the  nearest  ridge, 
and  so  out  of  sight.  • 

"  Waal,  waal,  sir  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Sayles,  as  she 
reseated  herself  on  the  porch,  with  her  knitting  in  her 
hand,  "  that  thar  Mink  Lorey  never  hed  no  jedgmint  no- 
ways. He  could  n't  hev  tuk  ch'ice  of  a  wuss  time  ter  git 
fetched  up  afore  a  court  'n  jes'  now.  Squair  White  tole 


94  //V  THE   CLOUDS, 

me  ez  our  Jedge  Averill  hev  agreed  ter  exchange  with 
Jedge  Gwinnan  from  over  yander  in  Kildeer  County 
nex'  term,  ez  he  can't  try  his  cases,  bein'  kin  ter  them  ez 
air  lawing.  So  Gwinnan  will  hold  court  in  Shaftesville 
nex'  term.  I  'd  hate  mightily  fur  sech  a  onsartin,  onex- 
pected  critter  ez  him  ter  hev  enny  say-so  'bout  me  or 
mine.  But  shucks !  Men  folks  ennyhow,"  she  con- 
tinued, discursively,  her  needles  swiftly  moving,  as  if 
they  were  endowed  with  independent  volition,  and  needed 
no  supervision,  "  air  freakish,  an'  fractious,  an'  sot  in 
thar  way,  an'  gin  ter  cur'ous  cavortin'.  It  never  s'prised 
me  none  ez  arter  the  Lord  made  man  he  turned  in  an' 
made  woman,  the  fust  job  bein'  sech  a  failure." 

There  was  a  pause.  The  regular  metre  of  the  katy- 
did's song  pulsed  in  the  interval.  The  dewdrops  glim- 
mered on  the  chickweed  by  the  porch.  The  fragrance 
of  mint  and  ferns  was  on  the  air,  and  the  smell  of  the 
dark  orchard.  Now  and  then  an  abrupt  thud  told  that 
a  great  Indian  peach  had  reached  the  measure  of  ripe- 
ness and  had  fallen.  Through  the  open  window  and 
door  the  moonlight  lay  in  glittering  rhomboids  on  the 
puncheon  floor.  All  the  interior  was  illuminated,  and 
the  grotesque  figure  of  the  pet  cub  was  distinctly  visible 
to  Jacob  Jessup,  who  was  lounging  on  the  porch  without, 
as  the  creature  stole  across  the  floor,  and  rose  upon  his 
hind  legs  to  reach  the  pine  table.  As  he  thrust  his 
scooping  claw  into  the  bread  trough,  —  the  long,  shallow, 
wooden  bowl  in  which  batter  for  corn-dodgers  was  mixed, 
—  he  turned  his  cautious  head  to  make  sure  he  was  un- 
observed, and  his  cunning,  twinkling  eyes  met  Jessap's. 
Somehow  the  sudden  consciousness  of  the  creature,  his 
nervous  haste  to  be  off,  appealed  to  Jessup's  lenient 
mood.  He  listened  to  the  scuttling  claws  on  the  pun- 
cheon floor  as  the  beast  huriaed  out  of  the  back  door,  and 
while  he  debated  whether  or  not  he  should  play  informer, 
his  wife,  sitting  on  the  doorstep  with  the  baby  in  her 
arms,  asked  suddenly,  — 

"  'Pears  like  ye  air  sorter  sot  agin  this  Jedge  Gwin- 
nan, mother.  I  never  hearn  afore  ez  ye  knowed  him 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  95 

whenst  ye  lived  in  Kildeer  County.  What  sorter  man 
be  he  ?  " 

Mrs.  Sayles  wagged  her  head  inside  her  sun-bonnet  to 
intimate  contempt. 

"  A  young  rooster,  'bout  fryin'  size,"  she  said,  laugh- 
ing sneeringly,  the  scorn  accented  by  her  depopulated 
gums.  It  seemed  very  forlorn  to  be  laughed  at  like 
that. 

"  Waal,  a  man  can't  be  'lected  jedge  till  he  's  thirty," 
said  Jessup,  consciously  imparting  information.  "  He  's 
been  on  the  bench  right  smart  time,  too." 

Mrs.  Sayles  looked  at  him  over  her  spectacles,  still 
knitting,  as  if  her  industry  were  a  disconnected  function. 

"  What  air  thirty  ?  " 

"  Waal  "  —  began  Jessup,  argumentatively,  puffing  at 
his  cob  pipe.  Thirty  seemed  to  him  a  mature  age.  And 
the  constitution  of  the  State  evidently  presumes  folly  to 
be  permanent  if  it  is  not  in  some  sort  exorcised  before 
reaching  that  stage  of  manhood.  He  did  not  continue, 
however,  seeing  that  thirty  was  held  to  be  very  young  by 
Mrs.  Sayles,  who,  to  judge  from  her  wrinkles,  might  be 
some  four  or  five  hundred. 

"  I  ain't  'quainted  with  the  man  myself,"  she  went  on 
presently,  "  an'  what 's  more  I  ain't  wantin'  ter  be. 
But,"  impressively,  "  I  know  a  woman  ez  knowed  that 
man's  mother  whenst  he  war  a  baby.  She  'lowed  he 
war  a  powerful  cantankerous  infant,  ailin'  an*  hollerin' 
all  night  a*n'  mighty  nigh  all  day ;  could  n't  make  up  his 
mind  ter  die,  an'  yit  war  n't  willin'  ter  take  the  trouble 
ter  live." 

Jessup  felt  it  a  certain  injustice  that  the  nocturnal 
rampages  of  infancy  should  be  as  rancorously  animad- 
verted upon  as  the  late  hours  of  a  larger  growth. 

"  Waal,  Jedge  Gwinnan  is  powerful  pop'lar  now'- 
days,"  he  urged.  "  He  made  a  mighty  fine  race  when 
he  war  'lected." 

"  Shucks  !  ye  can't  tell  me  nuthin' !  "  said  his  mother, 
self-sufficiently.  "I  know  all  'bout  him,  an'  Jedge  Burns 
too,  ez  war  on  the  bench  afore  Jeemes  Gwinnan.  Whenst 


96  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

I  war  a  widder-woman  an'  lived  in  Kildeer  County  we- 
uns  useter  hev  Jedge  Burns  on  the  circuit.  He  war  a 
settled,  middle-aged  man  'bout  fifty,  an'  the  law  war  up- 
held, an'  things  went  easy,  an'  he  war  'lected  time  arter 
time,  till  one  year  they  all  turned  crazy  'bout  this  hyar 
feller,  ez  war  run  by  his  party  through  fools  bein'  sca'ce, 
I  s'pose.  Jeemes  war  'lected.  I  tell  ye  I  know  all 
'bout  him.  He  war  born  right  yander  nigh  Colbury,  an' 
I  know  a  woman  ez  useter  be  mighty  friendly  with  his 
mother." 

"  What  f  ambly  in  Colbury  did  he  marry  inter  ?  "  asked 
her  daughter-in-law,  more  interested  in  items  of  personal 
history  than  in  his  judicial  record. 

"  Bless  yer  soul,  he  air  a  single  man.  His  heart  air 
set  on  hisself .  He  would  n't  marry  no  gal  'thout  she  hed 
some  sorter  office  she  could  'lect  him  ter,  ez  be  higher  'n 
jedge.  He  be  plumb  eat  up  with  scufflin'  an'  tryin'  ter 
git  up  in  the  world  higher  'n  the  Lord  hev  set  him,  an'  't 
ain't  religion  ;  that  't  ain't.  He  minds  me  o'  Lucifer. 
He  '11  fall  some  day.  Not  out  o'  heaven,  mebbe,  'kase  he 
ain't  never  goin'  ter  git  thar,  but  leastwise  out'n  his  cir- 
cuit. Somebody  '11  top  him  off,  an'  mebbe  I  '11  live  ter 
see  the  day.  I  dunno,  though,  I  —  Laws-a-massy !  "  she 
exclaimed,  so  suddenly  that  both  her  listeners  started, 
"  look-a-yander  at  that  thar  perverted  tur-r-key  hen  an' 
her  delikit  deedies,  ez  air  too  leetle  ter  roost !  She  's  a- 
hoverin'  of  'em  in  that  thar  tall  grass,  wet  with  the  dew, 
an'  it  '11  be  the  death  o'  'em  !  Why  n't  Lethe  tend  ter 
'em  when  she  kem  up  from  milkin'  ?  Lethe  !  Lethe  ! 
Whar  's  that  gal  disappeared  ter  ?  " 

With  the  vagrant  instinct  of  the  wild  fowl  still  strong 
in  the  domesticated  turkey,  she  had  distrusted  the  hen- 
house, and  because  of  her  brood  she  was  prevented  from 
roosting  high  up  in  the  old  dead  tree. 

There  was  no  answer  to  Mrs.  Sayles's  call.  The 
daughter-in-law  made  a  feint  of  busily  rocking  the  baby, 
and  after  a  doubtful  glance  at  her  Mrs.  Sayles  got  up 
briskly,  putting  her  knitting-needles  into  her  ball  of  yarn, 
and  thrusting  them  both  into  her  deep  pocket.  She 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  97 

clutched  her  bonnet  further  forward  on  her  head,  took 
'up  a  splint  basket,  and  presently  there  arose  a  piping 
sound  among  the  weeds,  as  she  darted  this  way  and  that 
in  the  moonlight  with  uncanny  agility,  catching  the  dee- 
dies  one  by  one  and  transferring  them  to  her  basket. 
The  turkey  hen,  her  long  neck  stretched,  her  wings  out- 
spread, ran  wildly  about,  now  and  then  turning  and 
showing  irresolute,  futile  fight  for  a  moment,  and  again 
striving  to  elude  the  whole  misfortune  with  her  long,  un- 
gainly strides.  When  Mrs.  Sayles  in  triumph  unbent 
her  back  for  the  last  time  and  started  toward  the  house, 
the  fluttered  mother  following,  clamoring  hysterically, 
she  exclaimed  : 

"  Whar  be  that  thar  triflin'  Lethe  ?  " 

"  'Pears  like  ter  me  ez  I  hearn  Lethe  go  up  the  ladder 
ter  the  roof-room  a  consider'ble  while  ago,"  said  the  old 
man  slowly,  speaking  for  the  first  time  during  the  even- 
ing. 

Once  more  Mrs.  Sayles  paused  irresolute. 

"  Laws-a-massy,  then,  ef  the  gal 's  asleep  I  reckon  I 
mought  ez  well  put  the  tur-r-key  an'  deedies  inter  the 
hen-house  myse'f ;  but  'pears  ter  me  the  young  folks  does 
nuthin'  nowadays  but  doze." 

She  took  a  step  further,  then  suddenly  bethought  her- 
self. "  Hyar,  Jacob,"  she  said  to  her  son,  handing  him 
the  basket,  "  make  yerse'f  nimble.  I  reckon  ye  hev  got 
sense  enough  ter  shet  that  thar  tur-r-key  an'  deedies  up 
in  the  hen-house.  Leastwise  I  '11  resk  it." 

Sleep  was  far  from  Alethea  that  night.  For  hours  she 
sat  at  the  roof-room  window,  looking  out  with  wide,  un- 
seeing eyes  at  the  splendid  night.  And  so  she  had  given 
her  counsel  freely  in  the  full  consciousness  of  right,  and 
the  man  she  loved  had  done  her  bidding.  What  misery 
she  had  wrought !  She  winced  to  know  how  his  thoughts 
must  upbraid  her.  She  remembered  his  petulant  taunts, 
his  likening  her  to  the  Herder  on  Thunderhead,  whose 
glance  blights  those  on  whom  he  looks ;  and  she  won- 
dered vaguely  if  the  harnt  knew  the  woe  it  was  his  fate 
to  wreak,  and  if  it  were  grief  to  him  as  he  rode  in  the 
clouds  on  the  great  cloud-mountain. 


98  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"I  reckon  I  know  how  he  feels,"  she  said. 

An  isolated  star  blazing  in  the  vast  solitudes  of  the 
sky  above  the  peak  of  Thunderhead  burst  suddenly  into 
a  dazzling  constellation  before  her  eyes,  for  she  felt  the 
hot  tears  dropping  down  one  by  one  on  her  hand. 

Alas,  Alethea!  one  needs  to  be  strong  to  attain  mar- 
tyrdom for  the  sacred  sake  of  the  right. 

Her  tears  wore  out  the  night,  but  when  the  sun  rose 
she  was  fain  to  dry  them. 


VII. 

THE  site  of  the  old  mill  continued  the  scene  of  many 
curious  groups  long  after  all  efforts  for  the  recovery  of 
the  body  had  ceased.  The  river  was  dragged  no  more, 
and  hope  was  relinquished.  There  had  never  been  any 
strong  expectation  of  success.  The  stream  was  abnor- 
mally high  considering  the  season  of  the  year,  and  run- 
ning with  great  impetuosity.  Though  with  the  aggrega- 
tions of  its  tributaries  swollen  by  the  late  rains  it  had  the 
volume  of  a  river,  it  retained  all  the  capricious  traits  of 
the  mountain  torrent  which  it  had  been.  It  was  full  of 
swirling  rapids,  of  whirlpools,  of  sudden  cataracts.  Its 
bed  was  treacherous  with  quicksands  and  rugged  with 
bowlders.  Hitched  to  the  miller's  orchard  fence  were 
rows  of  horses,  dazing  under  their  old  Mexican  saddles 
or  the  lighter  weight  of  a  ragged  blanket  or  a  folded 
quilt ;  teams  of  oxen  stood  yoked  under  the  trees  of  the 
open  space  beyond ;  children  and  dogs  sat  on  the  roots 
or  lay  in  the  grass,  while  the  heavy,  jeans-clad  figures  of 
the  mountaineers  explored  the  banks  as  they  chewed 
their  quids  with  renewed  vigor,  and  droned  the  gossip  in 
drawling  voices. 

The  same  faces  were  seen  day  after  day,  —  often 
enough  to  excite  no  particular  remark  that,  whoever 
came  or  was  absent,  Peter  Rood  was  here  with  the  dawn, 
and  night  found  him  still  strolling  along  the  banks,  look- 
ing upon  the  swollen  floods  with  gloomy,  insistent  dark 
eyes,  as  if  he  were  seeking  to  read  in  the  writhing  lines 
of  the  current  the  inscrutable  secret  of  the  Scolacutta 
River.  Sometimes,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  his 
lowering  face  shadowed  by  his  broad  hat,  he  would 
silently  listen  to  the  speculations  of  those  who  found 


100  7.V   THE   CLOUDS. 

solace  for  the  futility  of  the  undertaking  in  the  enlarged 
conjectural  field  which  failure  afforded,  discussing  the 
relative  probabilities  whether  the  body  had  floated  down 
to  the  Tennessee  River,  or  whether  it  had  been  engulfed 
by  the  quicksands  and  buried  forever,  or  caught  among 
the  rocks  of  the  jagged  bank  and  wedged  in,  to  be  found 
some  day  —  a  ghastly  skeleton  —  by  a  terrified  boy,  fish- 
ing or  wading  at  low  water. 

It  was  only  when  these  bootless  surmises  had  palled 
at  last,  through  many  repetitions  and  lack  of  further  de- 
velopments, that  the  ruins  of  the  old  mill  asserted  an  in- 
terest. There  seemed  a  strange  hush  on  the  landscape, 
here  where  the  wheel  would  whir  no  more.  A  few  tim- 
bers scattered  about,  a  rotten  old  stump  that  had  served 
as  part  of  the  foundation,  the  hopper  washed  up  by  the 
waters,  several  of  the  posts  which  had  upheld  the  race, 
were  all  that  was  left  of  the  old  mill,  so  long  the  salient 
feature  of  the  place  that  more  than  one  mountaineer  was 
beset  with  bewilderment  at  the  sight,  —  the  recollection 
of  the  oblique  line  of  the  roof  against  the  mountain,  the 
open  door,  the  reflections  in  the  water,  having  more  re- 
ality than  the  bereft  bank  of  the  river. 

And  now  the  old  miller  —  seeming  older  than  before 
—  was  wont  to  come  tottering  out  with  his  stick,  the  gay 
sunshine  on  his  long,  white  hair,  and  sit  on  the  broken 
timbers,  forlorn  amidst  the  ruins  of  his  poverty.  At  first 
his  appearance  created  renewed  excitement,  and  his  old 
customers  and  friends  pressed  up  to  speak  to  him  and 
hear  what  he  would  say.  feeling  a  certain  desire  to  mark 
the  moral  phenomena  of  loss  and  the  fine  processes  of 
grief.  But  he  held  his  clasped  hands  upon  the  stick, 
and  silently  shook  his  bowed  gray  head  in  his  ragged  old 
hat. 

"  I  reckon  ye  'd  better  leave  him  alone,"  his  pretty 
granddaughter  said  ;  for  she  always  accompanied  him, 
and  stood,  as  radiant  as  youth  may  ever  be,  twirling  the 
end  of  her  tattered  apron  between  her  fingers,  her  tan- 
gled yellow  hair,  like  skeins  of  sunshine,  hanging  down 
on  her  shoulders,  and  her  blue,  undismayed  eyes  looking 


7,V  THE   CLOUDS.  101 

with  a  shallow  indifference  upon  the  scene.  It  was  re- 
plete with  interest  and  curiosity,  not  to  say  awe,  to  the 
little  four-year-old  sister  who  hung  upon  her  skirts,  or 
thrust  a  tow  head  from  behind  her  grandfather.  Some- 
times her  lips  were  wreathed  with  a  smile  as  she  saw 
some  child  in  the  crowd,  but  if  the  demonstration  were 
returned  she  straightway  hid  her  head  in  the  old  man's 
sleeve  and  for  a  while  looked  out  no  more. 

Once  old  Griff  spoke  suddenly.  "  'Gustus  Tom,"  for 
his  favorite  kept  beside  him,  "  ye  would  n't  treat  rfobody 
mean,  would  ye  ?  " 

"  Would  ef  they  treated  me  mean,"  said  'Gustus  Tom, 
with  an  unequivocal  nod,  which  intimated  that  his  code 
of  ethics  recognized  retribution.  "  'Thout,"  he  qualified, 
"  't  war  sister  Eudory  thar,"  —  he  glanced  at  the  little 
girl,  —  "  I  'd  gin  'em  ez  good  ez  they  sent." 

"  'T  ain't  religion,  'Gustus  Tom,  —  "t  ain't  religion," 
said  the  old  man  brokenly.  'Gustus  Tom,  with  his  frag- 
ment of  hat  on  the  side  of  his  tow  head,  hardly  looked 
as  if  he  cared. 

A  grizzled  old  mountaineer  in  jeans,  with  a  stern, 
square  face  and  a  deep-set  eye,  that  was  lighted  suddenly, 
spoke  abruptly  in  a  sepulchral  voice. 

"  Ye  oughter  go  ter  camp,  Brother  Griff,"  he  said  in 
a  religious  twang,  —  "  ye  oughter  go  ter  camp,  an'  tell 
yer  'speriunce !  Ye  hev  lived  long.  Ye  hev  wrastled 
with  the  devil.  Ye  hev  seen  joy,  ye  hev  knowed  sor- 
row, ye  hev  fund  grace.  Yes,  sir  !  Yes,  sir  !  Ye  air 
full  o'  'speriunce,  brother,  an'  ye  oughter  go  ter  camp  an' 
comfort  yerse'f,  an'  sing,  an'  pray." 

"  I  pray  no  mo',"  said  the  old  man,  lifting  his  aged, 
piteous  face.  "  I  'm  'feared  the  Lord  mought  hear  me 
an'  answer  my  prayer."  He  smote  his  breast.  "I  ain't 
keerin'  fur  the  mill.  I  ain't  keerin'  for  the  chill'n,  — 
they  11  make  out  somehows.  But  ef  my  prayers  could 
take  back  every  word  o'  wrath  I  ever  spoke  ter  the  idjit, 
every  lick  I  struck  him,  I  'd  weary  the  very  throne  o' 
grace.  Ef  I  could  git  him  back  an'  begin  over  —  but  I 
can't !  An'  I  won't  pray  fur  myself,  fur  the  Lord  mought 


102  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

hear  me.  An'  I  want  ter  remember  every  one  o'  them 
words  an'  every  lick,  an'  pay  back  fur  'em,  wropped  in 
the  flames  o'  Torment." 

He  got  up  and  tottered  away  toward  the  house,  fol- 
lowed by  his  grandchildren,  leaving  the  bystanders  star- 
ing after  him,  strangely  thrilled. 

u  Waal,  I  hopes  they  won't  hear  at  the  camp-meetin' 
o'  his  talkin'  sech  ez  that,"  remarked  the  elderly  adviser 
in  dismay.  "  They  hev  been  a-sermonizin'  a  good  deal 
'bout  Tad's  early  death  an'  Mink  Lorey's  awful  crime, 
an'  sech,  ter  them  young  sinners  over  yander  ter  camp, 
an'  it  'peared  ter  be  a-sorter  skeerin'  of  'em,  a-sorter 
a-shooin'  of  'em  inter  the  arms  o'  grace.  An'  I  hopes 
none  o'  'em  will  hear  'bout  the  old  man  a-repentin'  an' 
wantin'  ter  burn,  an'  sech,  fur  the  boy's  hevin'  been 
c'rected  by  his  elders  ;  they  air  perverted  enough  now 
agin  them  ez  hev  authority  over  'em." 

"  Old  Griff  would  change  his  mind  'bout  burnin'  ef  he 
seen  the  fire  one  time,"  said  another,  winking  seriously, 
as  if  he  spoke  from  pyrotechnic  experience.  Then  with 
a  sudden  change  of  tone,  "  What  ails  Pete  Rood  ?  " 

For  Rood  was  leaning  against  a  tree,  his  swarthy  face 
overspread  with  a  sallow  paleness,  his  lips  blue,  his  eyes 
half  closed,  his  hand  clutching  at  his  heart. 

He  said  it  was  nothing  much  ;  he  had  been  "  tuk  "  this 
way  often  before  ;  he  would  be  better  presently.  Indeed, 
he  was  shortly  able  to  walk  down  to  the  bank  of  the 
river,  and  sit  and  listen  to  the  surmises  of  a  half  dozen 
idle  fellows,  lying  in  the  grass,  as  to  the  drowning  of 
Tad  and  the  fate  of  Mink,  and  the  terrible  illustrations 
that  both  had  furnished  in  the  sermons  at  the  camp- 
meeting  in  Eskaqua  Cove. 

And  when  he  left  them  at  last  it  was  to  the  camp- 
meeting  he  went. 

The  afternoon  brought  a  change  in  the  weather.  Rood 
noted  it  as  he  rode  his  raw-boned  horse  over  the  ranges 
and  down  the  red  clay  roads  into  Eskaqua  Cove.  Clouds 
had  gathered,  obscuring  the  sun.  There  were  no  shad- 
ows, no  gradations  of  light,  no  point  of  brilliant  climax. 


7.V  THE  CLOUDS.  103 

The  foliage  was  heavy  masses  of  solid  color.  Only  in 
certain  plumy  silver-green  boughs  lurked  a  subdued  glis- 
ter, some  luculent  enchantment;  for  if  ever  the  moon- 
light were  enmeshed  by  a  tree  it  is  in  the  branches  of  the 
white  pine. 

Silence  had  fallen,  as  if  the  source  of  light  were  also 
source  of  sound.  There  was  wind  in  the  upper  atmos- 
phere, but  no  breath  stirred  the  leaves.  Twilight  had 
sunk  upon  the  cove  before  he  turned  off  into  a  road  lead- 
ing up  a  wooded  hill.  In  the  dusk,  sundry  equine  fig- 
ures loomed  up.  The  head  of  a  horse  was  clearly  de- 
nned against  a  patch  of  the  pale  sky,  and  a  shrill  neigh 
jarred  the  quiet.  There  were  wagons,  too,  under  the 
trees,  empty,  the  teams  unharnessed,  and  the  poles  lying 
on  the  ground.  A  dim  light,  deeply  yellow,  shone  among 
the  boles  of  the  trees  further  on,  a  little  misty,  because 
already  large  drops  were  falling.  All  unmindful  of  the 
rain,  a  row  of  young  men  and  half-grown  boys  perched 
on  a  rail  fence  in  crouching  attitudes,  not  unlike  gigantic 
roosting  fowls.  Now  and  then  a  subdued,  drawling  voice 
sounded  from  among  them,  and  a  smothered  laugh  was 
attestation  of  callow  humanity.  They  were  not  devoid 
of  interest  in  the  proceedings  of  the  camp-meeting,  but  it 
was  in  the  impersonal  quality  of  spectator,  and  they  held 
aloof  from  the  tabernacle  as  if  they  had  no  souls  to  be 
saved.  They  turned  to  look  down  at  Rood  as  he  dis- 
mounted and  hitched  his  horse,  and  he  heard  his  own 
name  passed  along  the  row,  it  being  a  self-constituted 
register  of  all  who  came  and  went.  The  little  gate 
dragged  and  creaked  on  its  hinges,  and  resisted  as  if  it 
grudged  the  spiritual  opportunities  to  which  it  gave  ac- 
cess, and  desired  to  point  the  fact  that  salvation  was  not 
easy  to  come  by.  As  it  yielded  and  Rood  entered  the 
inclosure  there  were  more  yellow  lights  showing  with 
misty  halos  in  the  olive-green  dusk.  They  came  from 
the  doors  of  a  row  of  shanties,  floorless  and  windowless, 
which  served  as  quarters  for  the  crowd  at  night.  There 
was  a  great  flaring  flame  in  the  rear  of  each  cabin,  with 
leaping  red  tongues,  surrounded  by  busy,  hovering  fig- 


104  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

ures  that  cast  huge  distorted  shadows  against  the  encom- 
passing foliage,  as  if  some  uncanny  phenomenal  beings 
were  stalking  a  solemn  round  among  the  trees.  These 
fires  had  uncomfortable  spiritual  suggestions.  But  they 
issued  merely  from  the  kitchens,  the  most  cheerful  things 
at  camp,  and  here  saint  and  sinner  were  equally  heartily 
represented.  Supper  was  over,  however.  The  hymn 
rising  even  now  from  the  tabernacle  was  far  from  cheer- 
ful :  one  of  the  long-drawn,  melancholy  songs,  with  wild, 
thrilling  swells  and  sudden  falls  and  monotonous  recitative 
passages,  sometimes  breaking  into  a  strange,  ecstatic  chant. 
The  serried  vertical  lines  of  rain  seemed  to  vibrate  with 
it  like  the  strings  of  a  harp.  Far  away  the  thunder 
rolled  in  its  pauses.  More  than  once  the  sudden  light- 
ning illumined  the  grounds  with  a  ghastly  gleam,  and 
the  rhythmic  solemn  song  went  on  like  a  part  of  the 
storm.  It  was  a  grave  assemblage  under  the  great  roof 
of  the  rude  structure,  shown  in  the  dim  light  of  six  or 
eight  kerosene  lamps  fixed  against  the  posts.  At  one 
end  was  a  platform  with  a  bench,  on  which  sat  some  five 
or  six  of  the  preachers  participating  in  the  exercises. 
Brother  Jethro  Sims,  a  hoary-headed  patriarch,  was  walk- 
ing slowly  up  and  down  the  main  aisle,  clapping  his 
hands  and  singing  with  a  look  of  ecstasy  in  his  upturned 
eyes  which  a  sophisticated  religionist  might  vainly  won- 
der at,  finding  that  his  superior  attainments  and  advanced 
theories  had  bereft  him  of  the  power  to  even  comprehend 
such  faith,  such  piously  prescient  joys.  The  ground  was 
covered  with  a  deep  layer  of  straw,  deadening  the  stir 
among  the  rows  of  benches.  Many  of  these,  having  no 
backs,  served  to  acquaint  their  occupants  with  martyrdom 
and  to  offer  a  premium  to  the  naturally  upright.  There 
were  numbers  of  little  children  present,  for  as  yet  the 
lenient  rule  of  the  mountain  churches  tolerates  their  bab- 
ble and  even  their  crying  in  reason.  Here  and  there 
one  of  the  humbly  clad  young  women,  with  her  sleeping 
infant  in  her  arms,  the  yellow  light  falling  upon  its  head 
and  on  her  solemn,  listening,  almost  holy  face,  might  re- 
mind one  of  another  peasant  mother  whose  Child  is  the 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  105 

hope  of  the  world.  The  extreme  seriousness,  the  devout 
aspiration,  the  sublimity  of  the  unquestioning  faith,  that 
animated  the  meeting,  could  annul  ignorance,  poverty, 
uncouthness. 

There  were  many  canine  figures  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  crowd,  now  and  then  peering  with  wolfish  green  eyes 
and  weird  effect  from  the  darkness  among  the  laurel, 
which  was  beginning  to  sway  and  sound  with  the  wind. 
Those  in  the  full  light,  standing  even  beneath  the  roof 
and,  with  lolling  tongue  and  wagging  tail,  looking  upon 
the  proceedings,  seemed  peculiarly  idle  here  and  to  incur 
the  imputation  of  loafers,  despite  that  they  are  never 
very  busy  elsewhere.  Others  were  more  selfishly  em- 
ployed, creeping  about  under  the  benches  and  among 
the  feet  of  the  congregation,  searching  in  the  straw  for 
the  bits  of  bread  and  meat  thrown  aside  by  the  frequent- 
ers of  the  meeting  who  did  not  camp  on  the  grounds,  but 
brought  their  lunch  for  the  midday,  and  went  home  at 
night.  One  little  dapper  yellow  dog  had  bounded  on  the 
end  of  the  mourners'  bench,  and  sat  there,  gravely  gazing 
about  him  with  small,  affable  eyes,  all  unnoticed  by  the 
elders,  but  threatening  the  gravity  of  an  urchin,  who 
grinned  and  coughed  to  hide  the  grin,  breaking  out  with 
a  wild,  uncontrollable  vocalization,  relic  of  the  whooping- 
cough,  not  long  over-past.  He  was  finally  motioned  out 
of  the  tabernacle,  and  scudded  across  in  the  rain  to  the 
shanty,  while  the  little  dog  sat  demure  and  unmolested 
on  the  mourners'  bench. 

Larger  sinners  were  gathering  there  presently,  albeit 
slowly. 

"  Come !  come  !  "  cried  the  old  man  sonorously  over 
the  singing.  "  Delay  not !  My  brethren,  I  hev  never 
seen  a  meetin'  whar  the  devil  held  sech  a  strong  hold  ! 
Come  !  Hell  yawns  fur  ye  !  Come  !  Yer  time  is  short ! 
Grace  beckons  !  Come !  The  fires  o'  perdition  air  kin- 
dled !  The  flames  air  red  !  " 

And  as  his  voice  broke  forth  once  more  in  the  chant- 
ing, the  thunder  rolled  as  a  repetition  of  his  summons, 
the  lightning  glared,  all  the  mountains  became  visible 


106  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

over  the  woods  of  the  abrupt  declivity  toward  the  east ; 
and  higher  still  above  the  summits  was  revealed  a  vast 
cloud-vista  in  the  midst  of  the  black  night,  vividly  white, 
full  of  silent  surging  motion,  with  strange  suggestions  of 
bending  forms,  of  an  awful  glister  at  the  vanishing  point, 
—  darkness  enveloped  it,  and  once  more  the  thunder 
pealed. 

As  the  gathering  storm  burst,  the  monotonously  chant- 
ing voices  seemed  keyed  to  an  awed  undertone,  lisping 
with  this  mighty  psalm  of  nature,  —  the  thunder  and  its 
echo  in  the  mountains,  the  tumultuous  cry  of  the  wind, 
and  the  persistent  iteration  of  the  rain.  In  the  intervals 
of  its  splendid  periods,  one  might  feel  it  a  relief  to  hear 
the  water  timidly  splashing  in  the  little  ditches  that 
served  to  drain  the  ground  on  either  side  of  the  taber- 
nacle, and  the  continual  whisper  in  the  pines  above  the 
primitive  structure.  Here  and  there  two  or  three  boughs 
hung  down  further  than  the  rest,  fringing  the  eaves. 
Ben  Doaks  noted,  when  the  lightning  flared  again,  that 
just  between  them  the  distant  peak  of  Thunderhead 
loomed  dimly  visible,  —  or  was  it  a  cloud  ?  Strain  his 
eyes  as  he  might,  he  could  hardly  say. 

For  Ben  Doaks  was  there,  the  first  to  respond  to  the 
earnest  exhortations  to  the  sinners  to  come  forward.  He 
had  a  shamefaced  look  as  he  shambled  up  and  took  his 
seat  on  the  mourners'  bench,  while  the  little  dog  sat  un- 
noticed at  the  other  end.  Doaks  was  quick,  however,  to 
observe  that  one  of  the  preachers  eyed  him  sharply,  and 
spoke  to  another,  who  shook  his  head  with  a  gesture  in- 
deed of  negation,  but  an  expression  of  reluctant  affirma- 
tion, and  he  felt  sure  that  they  recognized  how  often  he 
had  sat  there,  and  that  they  were  saying  to  each  other 
that  it  was  of  no  use, — he  was  evidently  rejected  by 
grace. 

Now  and  then  low  voices  sounded  in  the  midst  of  the 
singing,  —  the  Christians  urging  those  convicted  of  sin 
to  go  up  and  be  prayed  for.  Others  came  forward. 
There  was  more  stir  than  before ;  a  vivid  curiosity  was 
on  many  faces  turning  about  to  see  who  was  going  up, 


IN   THE    CLOUDS.  107 

who  was  resisting  entreaty,  who  ought  to  be  convicted  of 
sin,  being  admirably  supplied  with  obliquity  of  which  to 
repent. 

Pete  Rood  sat,  his  black  eyes  on  the  ground,  intent, 
brooding,  deeply  grave.  Elvira  Crosby  thought  at  first 
that  he  affected  to  overlook  her.  Then,  with  a  sinking 
of  the  heart,  she  realized  that  indeed  he  did  not  see  her. 
The  tears  welled  up  to  her  eyes.  The  past  was  not  to 
be  recalled.  When  was  he  ever  before  unaware  of  her 
presence  ?  He  had  been  so  eager,  so  devoted,  so  unlike 
the  capricious  lover  for  whom  she  had  lightly  flung  him 
away.  It  was  all  over,  though.  She  looked  about  her 
to  divert  her  mind,  to  preserve  her  composure.  She 
noted  Mrs.  Sayles  in  the  congregation,  identifying  her  by 
her  limp  sun-bonnet.  Mrs.  Sayles  had  long  been  saying 
that  she  intended  to  put  splints  in  it  some  day  when  time 
favored  her ;  but  it  still  hung  over  her  eyes,  obscuring 
her  visage,  except  her  mouth,  as  she  sang,  and  she  was 
an  edifying  spectacle  of  a  disregard  of  earthly  pomps 
and  a  lack  of  vain  interest  in  baubles  and  bonnets. 
Alethea's  face,  like  some  fair  flower  half  enfolded  in  its 
sheath,  was  visible  in  the  funnel-shaped  depths  of  her 
own  brown  bonnet,  with  a  glistening  suggestion  of  her 
gold  hair  on  her  forehead,  and  one  escaped  tress  hanging 
down  beneath  the  curtain  on  her  dark  brown  homespun 
dress.  She  did  not  sing,  and  she  looked  downcast. 

In  the  aisle  between  the  two  benches  reserved  for  the 
mourners  the  brethren  were  crowding,  talking  individu- 
ally to  the  contrite  sinners,  sometimes  with  such  effect 
that  sobs  and  tears  broke  forth ;  and  then  the  hymn  was 
renewed,  wrth  the  rhythmic  sound  of  the  clapping  of. 
hands,  while  the  thunder  crashed  and  the  forked  light- 
nings darted  through  the  sky.  The  lurid  scenic  effects 
added  their  impressiveness  to  the  terrible  word-painting 
of  another  preacher,  who  was  less  interesting  though  not 
less  efficient  than  that  gentle  old  man,  Brother  Jethro 
Sims.  He  described  hell  with  an  accurate  knowledge  of 
its  topography,  its  personnel,  and  its  customs,  which  was 
a  triump^i  of  imagination,  and  made  one  feel  that  he  had 


108  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

surely  been  there.  A  young  woman  suddenly  broke  into 
wild  screams,  shouting  that  she  had  found  her  salvation, 
and  clapping  her  hands,  and  crying,  "  Glory  !  "  finally 
fainting,  and  being  borne  out  into  the  rain. 

In  the  aisles  they  all  often  knelt,  praying  aloud  in 
turns :  sometimes,  the  voice  of  one  failing  in  a  whispered 
Amen  !  another  would  cry  out  insistently,  "  Let  us  con- 
tinue the  supplication  !  "  And  once  more  the  prayer 
would  go  up. 

There  were  no  more  conversions.  Over  and  again  the 
brethren  announced  in  pious  dudgeon  that  it  was  a  stub- 
born meeting,  and  hell  gaped  for  the  sinner.  It  was  evi- 
dence of  the  sincerity  of  the  mourners,  and  their  anxiety 
not  to  deceive  themselves  and  others,  that  they  could  thus 
resist  the  urgency  of  the  impassioned  appeals,  that  with 
quivering  nerves  they  could  still  withhold  all  demonstra- 
tions of  yielding  until  the  spirit  should  descend  upon 
them. 

Presently  persons  who  desired  the  prayers  of  the  con- 
gregation were  requested  to  rise  and  make  known  their 
wish.  It  might  be  feared  that  some  of  the  compliances 
did  not  tend  to  preserve  domestic  harmony.  One  woman 
asked  prayers  for  her  husband,  whose  heart,  she  stated, 
was  not  in  his  religion,  and  the  defiant  contradiction  ex- 
pressed in  the  face  of  a  man  seated  beside  her  suggested 
that  she  had  thus  publicly  made  reprisal  for  sundry  con- 
jugal differences.  Nevertheless,  old  Brother  Sims  said, 
"  Amen  !  "  Mrs.  Sayles  rose  and  begged  prayers  for  the 
"  headin'  young  folks  o'  the  kentry,  that  they  'd  be 
guided  by  thar  elders,  an'  not  trest  thar  own  green  jedg- 
mints,  an'  finally  be  led  ter  grace."  An'd  all  the  old 
people  said,  heartily,  "  Amen  !  "  Many  turned  to  look 
at  Alethea,  whose  face  had  become  a  delicate  pink. 

And  suddenly  Peter  Rood  rose.  "  I  want  the  prayers 
o'  the  godly,"  he  said,  now  and  then  casting  a  hasty 
glance  at  Brother  Sims,  who  stood  listening  intently,  his 
chin  in  the  air,  his  hands  arrested  in  the  gesture  of  clap- 
ping, "  fur  light  ter  my  steps.  I  reckon  I  'm  a  back- 
slider, fur  I  git  no  light  when  I  pray.  It 's  all  dark,  — 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  109 

mighty  dark !  "  His  voice  trembled.  He  was  beginning 
to  lose  his  self-control.  "  My  actions  tarrify  me !  I 
'lowed  wunst  I  hed  fund  grace,  but  in  trouble  I  hev  no 
helper." 

The  lightnings  flashed  once  more.  The  swift  illumi- 
nation seemed  to  blanch  his  swarthy  face,  and  lighted  his 
uplifted  black  eyes  with  a  transient  gleam.  "  I  'm  in  sin 
an'  great  mis'ry.  I  hev  done  wrong."  He  was  about  to 
sit  down. 

"  Make  reparation,  brother,  an'  free  yer  soul  in 
prayer,"  said  the  old  man. 

"  I  can't !  "  he  cried,  shrilly.  "  I  'm  'feard !  I  'm 
'feard  o'  my  life.  I  would  n't  hev  done  sech  'ceptin'  I 
war  drunk,  —  drunk  with  liquor  an'  drunk  with  spite." 

He  felt  that  he  was  saying  too  much.  He  sat  down, 
biting  his  lip  till  the  blood  started.  Then  he  rose  and 
faltered,  "  I  want  yer  prayers  fur  light." 

"  Amen !  "  said  Brother  Sims. 

Rood  had  recovered  himself  abruptly.  He  was  look- 
ing about  with  furtive  sharpness  through  the  congrega- 
tion, seeking  to  gauge  the  effect  of  what  he  had  said 
when  under  the  strong  spell  of  religious  excitement  that 
had  swayed  the  crowd.  Fearful  as  he  was,  he  detected 
only  curiosity,  interest,  nothing  more  marked ;  for  in  the 
rhetoric  of  frenzied  repentance  these  good  men  often  ap- 
ply to  themselves  language  that  seriously  entertained 
could  only  grace  an  indictment. 

The  rain  had  ceased ;  the  quiet  without  seemed  to  con- 
duce to  a  calmer  spirit  within.  The  fervor  of  the  meet- 
ing had  spent  itself.  Only  a  few  of  the  brethren  were 
"  workin'  "  with  Ben  Doaks ;  his  face  was  troubled  and 
perplexed,  his  anxious  eyes  turned  from  one  to  another. 

"  Can't  ye  feel  ye  air  jes'  a  wuthless  worm  a-crawlin' 
round  the  throne  o'  grace?  Can't  ye  feel  that  only 
mercy  kin  save  ye  ?  —  fur  ye  richly  desarve  damna- 
tion." 

"  Laws-a-massy,  naw,"  said  poor,  candid  Ben,  greatly 
harried.  "  I  think  mighty  well  o'  myself  !  " 

And  so  they  left  him  in  his  sins.      The  crowd  was 


110  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

breaking  up,  chiefly  seeking  their  several  camps,  as  the 
shanties  were  called.  But  a  few  had  come  merely  to 
participate  in  the  exercises  of  the  evening,  and  these 
were  busy  in  harnessing  their  horses  or  yoking  their 
oxen  into  their  wagons  on  the  hillside  without  the  in- 
closure.  The  declivity  was  veined  with  rivulets,  into 
which  the  heavy  feet  of  the  men  and  beasts  splashed ; 
the  leaves  continuously  dripped ;  frogs  were  croaking 
near  at  hand  in  the  sombre  woods,  —  not  so  dark  now, 
for  the  melancholy  waning  moon  shone  among  the  break- 
ing clouds.  The  rumble  of  wheels  presently  intruded 
upon  the  low-toned  conversation,  the  burden  of  which 
was  the  meeting  and  reminiscent  comparison  with  other 
meetings.  Several  of  the  boys,  not  burdened  with  im- 
mortality, took  leave  less  decorously,  whooping  loudly  at 
each  other  as  they  galloped  past  the  vehicles,  and  were 
soon  out  of  sight  and  hearing. 

The  red  clay  road  was  presently  lonely  enough  as 
Alethea  trudged  along  it.  There  was  no  room  for  her 
in  the  little  wagon  which  Buck  drew  in  single  harness, 
as  might  be  called  the  ropes  by  which  the  ox,  fastened 
between  the  shafts,  was  made  to  dispense  with  a  yoke- 
fellow. A  rope  tied  to  his  horn  was  intended  to  guide 
him  along  any  intricacies  of  the  road  with  which  he 
might  not  be  acquainted.  Mrs.  Sayles,  her  daughter-in- 
law,  and  several  of  the  children  were  seated  in  the  wagon, 
and  sometimes  Alethea  walked  in  advance,  and  some- 
times fell  into  the  rear.  It  was  no  great  distance  that 
they  were  to  travel,  —  their  destination  being  her  aunt's 
house  in  Eskaqua  Cove,  where  they  were  to  spend  the 
night  before  wagoning  up  the  Great  Smoky. 

Alethea  was  beset  with  her  own  unquiet  thoughts  ;  the 
remorse  that  would  not  loose  its -hold  ;  the  strange  wrong 
which  the  right  had  wrought.  Her  conscience,  forever 
on  the  alert  —  serving,  if  need  were,  as  proxy  —  could 
find  no  flaw  in  what  she  had  counseled ;  and  thus  per- 
verse fate,  in  the  radiant  guise  of  rectitude,  had  led  Reu- 
ben Lorey  to  despair,  and  delivered  her  to  grief. 

She  hardly  noted  the  incidents  of  the  wayside,  —  the 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  Ill 

foot-bridge  over  the  creek ;  the  stars  amongst  the  rip- 
ples ;  the  sound  of  the  insects ;  the  zigzag  fences  on 
either  hand ;  the  mists  that  lurked  among  the  trees,  that 
paced  the  turn-rows  of  the  corn-fields,  that  caught  the 
moonbeams,  and  glittered  against  the  dark  mountain 
side.  It  was  another  gleam  that  struck  her  attention ; 
she  looked  again,  —  the  slant  of  the  rays  against  the  win- 
dows of  a  little  school-house.  There  was  a  deep  impres- 
sion of  silence  upon  it,  vacant  in  the  night,  dark  but  for 
the  moonbeams.  The  pines  that  overhung  it  were  som- 
bre and  still.  The  vapors  shifted  about  it,  fringing  even 
the  rotten  palings  that  inclosed  it.  Her  feet  had  followed 
her  gaze.  She  was  near  the  edge  of  the  narrow  road,  as 
she  paused  to  wait  for  Buck  and  the  wagon  to  come  up. 
She  heard  nothing  as  she  listened.  She  said  to  herself 
that  she  must  be  a  long  way  ahead.  She  was  sensible  of 
fatigue  presently  ;  the  excitements  of  the  evening  were 
superimposed  on  the  work  of  the  day.  She  leaned 
against  the  tottering  fence.  Her  bonnet  had  fallen  back 
on  her  shoulders ;  she  rested  her  head  on  her  hand,  her 
elbows  on  the  low  palings.  She  might  have  dreamed 
for  a  moment.  Suddenly  something  touched  her.  She 
turned  her  head  quickly ;  her  shriek  seemed  to  pierce 
the  sky,  for  there  in  the  inclosure,  —  did  she  see  aright  ? 
—  the  idiot's  face  !  white  with  a  responsive  terror  upon 
it,  vanishing  in  the  mist.  Or  was  it  the  mist  ?  Did  she 
hear  the  quick  thud  of  retreating  footsteps,  or  was  it  the 
throbs  of  her  own  plunging  heart  ?  As  she  turned,  wildly 
throwing  up  both  arms,  she  beheld  Buck  and  the  wagon 
on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  with  the  worshipers  from  the 
camp-meeting,  and  the  sight  restored  to  her  more  mun- 
dane considerations. 


VIII. 

IN  those  long  days  while  Mink  languished  in  jail,  he 
wondered  how  the  world  could  wag  on  without  him.  He 
hungered  with  acute  pangs  for  the  mountains ;  he  pined 
for  the  sun  and  the  wind.  Sometimes  he  stood  for  hours 
at  the  window,  straining  for  a  breath  of  air.  Then  the 
barred  aspect  of  the  narrow  scene  outside  of  the  grating 
maddened  him,  and  he  would  fling  himself  upon  his  bed  ; 
and  it  would  seem  to  him  that  he  could  never  rise  again. 

He  speculated  upon  Alethea  with  a  virulence  of  rage 
which  almost  frightened  him,  —  whether  she  had  heard 
of  his  arrest,  how  she  had  received  the  news. 

"  Mighty  pious,  I  reckon,"  he  sneered.  "  I  know  ez 
well  ez  ef  I  hed  seen  her  ez  she  be  a-goin'  'round  the 
kentry  a-tellin'  'bout  my  wickedness,  an'  how  she  worried 
an'  worked  with  me,  an'  could  n't  git  me  shet  o'  my  evil 
ways." 

He  thought  of  Elvira,  too,  with  a  certain  melancholy 
relish  of  her  fancied  grief.  His  heart  had  softened  to- 
ward her  as  his  grudge  against  Alethea  waxed  hot. 
"  She  tuk  it  powerful  hard,  I  know.  I  '11  be  bound  it 
mighty  nigh  killed  her,  —  she  set  so  much  store  by  me. 
But  I  reckon  her  folks  air  glad,  bein'  ez  they  never  fa- 
vored me." 

It  seemed  to  him,  as  he  reflected  on  the  probable  sen- 
timent of  his  friends  and  neighbors,  that  he  had  lived  in 
a  wolfish  community,  ready  with  cowardly  cruelty  to  at- 
tack and  mangle  him  since  fortune  had  brought  him 
down. 

"  I  'm  carrion  now  ;  I  '11  hev  ter  expec'  the  wolves  an' 
buzzards,"  he  said  bitterly  to  his  lawyer,  as  they  can- 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  113 

vassed  together  what  witnesses  they  had  best  summon  to 
prove  his  general  good  character,  and  whom  they  should 
challenge  on  the  jury  list.  There  was  hardly  a  man  of 
the  number  on  whom  Mink  had  not  played  some  griev- 
ous prank  calculated  to  produce  a  rankling  grudge  and 
foster  prejudice.  He  recited  these  with  a  lugubrious 
gravity  incongruous  enough  with  the  subject  matter,  that 
often  elicited  bursts  of  unwilling  laughter  from  the  per- 
plexed counsel. 

This  was  a  bluff,  florid  man  of  forty,  with  a  hearty, 
resonant  voice,  a  light  blue  eye,  thick,  yellow  hair,  which 
he  wore  cut  straight  across  beneath  his  ears,  showing  its 
density,  and  thrown  back  without  parting  from  his  fore- 
head. When  the  locks  fell  forward,  as  they  often  did, 
he  tossed  them  back  with  an  impatient  gesture.  He 
had  a  long  mustache  and  beard.  His  lips  were  pecul- 
iarly red.  Altogether  he  was  a  high-colored,  noisy,  con- 
fident, blustering  fellow,  and  he  inspired  Mink  with  great 
faith. 

"  I  done  a  better  thing  'n  I  knowed  of  whenst  I  voted 
an'  electioneered  so  brash  fur  you-uns  ez  floater  in  tho 
legislatur',''  said  Mink  one  day,  in  a  burst  of  hopefulness. 
When  he  had  sent  for  the  lawyer  to  defend  him,  he  had 
based  his  appeal  for  aid  partly  on  his  political  services, 
and  relied  on  them  to  atone  for  any  deficiency  of  fees. 

"  Do  it  again,  Mink,  early  and  often !  "  And  the 
floater's  jolly  laughter  rang  out,  jarring  against  the  walls 
of  the  bare  room,  which  was,  however,  far  more  cheerful 
for  the  sound. 

Mink  had  foun.d  in  the  requirements  of  the  approach- 
ing trial,  urged  upon  his  attention  by  the  lawyer,  a  cer- 
tain respite  from  his  mental  anguish.  But  in  the  midst 
of  the  night,  griefs  would  beset  him.  In  his  dreams  the 
humble,  foolish  individuality  of  the  idiot  boy  was  in- 
vested with  awe,  with  a  deep  pathos,  with  a  terrible  dig- 
nity. It  seemed  often  that  he  was  awakened  by  the 
clutch  of  a  hand  to  an  imperative  consciousness  of  the 
crime  of  which  he  was  accused,  to  a  torturing  uncer- 


114  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

tainty  of  his  guilt  or  innocence.  His  conscience  strove 
in  vain  to  reckon  with  him. 

"  Mebbe,  though,  the  jury  kin  tell  ? "  he  said  one 
morning,  piteously,  to  his  counsel,  who  had  come  cheerily 
in,  to  find  him  wild-eyed  and  haggard. 

"  A  jury,"  said  the  lawyer  sententiously,  "  is  the  cus- 
sedness  of  one  man  multiplied  by  twelve." 

He  had  flung  his  somewhat  portly  bulk  into  a  chair 
which  creaked  beneath  his  weight,  and  he  was  looking  at 
his  client  with  calculating  keenness.  He  had  supple- 
mented a  fair  knowledge  of  the  law  with  a  theory  of  hu- 
man motives,  deduced  from  his  experience  among  men 
both  as  a  politician  and  before  the  courts.  In  their  less 
complex  expressions  he  was  quick  to  detect  them.  But 
he  was  devoid  of  intuition,  of  divination.  His  instincts 
were  blunt.  His  moral  perceptions  were  good,  but  ele- 
mentary. His  apprehension  of  crime  was  set  forth  in  its 
entirety  and  in  due  detail  by  the  code  of  Tennessee  with 
the  consequent  penalty  prescribed  by  the  statute.  He 
recognized  no  wrong  unpunishable  by  law.  The  exquis- 
ite anguish  of  a  moral  doubt,  the  deep,  helpless,  hopeless 
affliction  of  remorse,  the  keen,  unassuaged  pangs  of  irre- 
parability, —  he  had  no  spiritual  sense  to  take  cognizance 
of  these  immaterial  issues.  If  Mink,  escaping  by  his 
counsel's  clever  use  of  a  technicality,  should  ever  again 
think  of  the  miller,  dream  of  the  boy  weltering  in  the 
river,  wake  with  the  sound  of  that  weird  scream  in  his  ears, 
Mr.  Harshaw  would  wonder  at  him  as  a  fool.  As  to  the 
bar  of  conscience,  how  could  that  vague  essence  assume 
all  the  functions  of  a  court  under  the  constitution  ? 

And  still  conning  his  simple  alphabet  of  the  intricate 
language  of  emotions,  he  interpreted  the  prisoner's  wan 
cheek  and  restless  eyes  as  the  expression  of  fear.  This 
induced  a  secret  irritation  and  an  anxiety  as  to  how  he 
had  best  conduct  the  case,  in  view  of  his  professional  rep- 
utation. He  had  besought  Mink  in  his  own  interests  to 
be  frank,  and  now  he  was  perplexed  by  doubts  of  his 
client's  candor. 

It  required  only  a  few  moments'  reflection  to  assure 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  115 

himself  that  he  had  best  assume,  for  the  purposes  of  de- 
fense, the  guilt  of  the  prisoner  until  proved  innocent. 
As  he  placed  both  hands  on  his  knees  he  pursed  up  his 
lips  confidentially,  and  with  a  quick  sidelong  glance  he 
said,  — 

"  We  've  got  some  time,  though,  before  we  have  to  face 
'em,  Mink.  We  're  entitled  to  one  continuance,  on  ac- 
count of  the  inflamed  state  of  public  sentiment." 

The  brooding,  abstracted  look  passed  suddenly  from 
Mink's  face,  leaving  it  more  recognizable  with  its  wonted 
bright  intentness. 

"  Air  ye  'lowin'  ye  'd  put  off  the  trial  furder  'n  the 
day  be  set  fur,  Mr.  Harshaw  ?  "  he  asked,  with  the  ac- 
cents of  dismay.  "  Fur  Gawd's  sake,  don't  let  'em  do 
that.  I  wouldn't  bide  hyar,  all  shet  up"  —  his  eyes 
turned  from  wall  to  wall  with  the  baffled  eagerness  of  a 
caged  beast  —  "I  would  n't  bide  hyar  a  day  longer  'n 
I  'm  'bleeged  ter,  not  ter  git  shet  o'  damnation.  Lord 
A'mighty,  don't  go  a-shovin'  the  day  off  ;  hurry  it  up,  ef 
ye  kin.  I  want  ter  kem  ter  trial  an'  git  back  ter  the 
mountings.  I  feel  ez  ef  I  be  bound  ter  go." 

The  lawyer  still  looked  at  him  with  his  keen  sidelong 
glances. 

"  The  jury  stands  'twixt  you  and  the  mountains,  Mink. 
Might  n't  get  out,  after  all 's  said  and  done." 

Mink  looked  at  him  with  a  sudden  alarm  in  his  dilated 
eyes,  as  if  the  contingency  had  been  all  undreamed  of. 

"  They  '11  be  bound  ter  let  me  out,"  he  declared.  "  I 
ain't  feared  o'  the  jury." 

"  If  you  don't,  know  what  you  did  yourself,  you  can't 
expect  them  to  be  much  smarter  in  finding  it  out,"  rea- 
soned the  lawyer. 

"I  ain't  done  nuthin'  ter  keep  me  jailed  this  hyar 
way,"  said  Mink,  hardily.  "  I  feel  it  in  iny  bones  I  '11 
git  out.  I  never  try  them  bars,"  nodding  at  the  window, 
"  but  what  I  looks  fur  'em  ter  break  in  my  hand." 

"See  here,"  said  the  lawyer,  sternly,  "you  let  'them 
bars '  alone  ;  you  ain't  going  ter  do  yourself  any  good 
breaking  jail." 


116  IN   THE   CLOUDS. 

He  looked  down  meditatively  at  his  feet,  and  stamped 
one  of  them  that  his  trousers  might  slip  further  down 
over  his  boot-leg,  which  deported  itself  assertively  and 
obtrusively,  as  if  it  were  in  the  habit  of  being  worn  on 
the  outside. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  said  reflectively,  "  if  you  want  to 
be  tried  speedily,  but  what  it 's  best,  anyhow.  We  won't 
have  Averill  to  preside  ;  he  's  incompetent  in  a  number 
of  civil  cases,  and  Jim  Gwinnan  will  hold  court.  He  's 
a  "  —  he  pursed  up  his  red  lips  again,  and  looked  about 
with  an  air  intimating  a  high  degree  of  contempt ;  Mink 
hung  upon  his  words  with  an  oppressive  sense  of  help- 
lessness and  eagerness,  that  now  and  then  found  vent  in 
an  unconscious  long-drawn  sigh  —  "  well,  he  's  a  selfish, 
ambitious  sort  of  fellow,  and  he  's  found  out  it 's  mighty 
popular  to  make  a  blow  about  cleaning  up  the  docket,  and 
avoiding  the  law's  delays,  and  trotting  the  lawyers  right 
through.  He  '11  hold  court  till  twelve  o'clock  at  night, 
and  he  just  opposes,  tooth  and  nail,  every  motion  for  de- 
lay. I  reckon  he  'd  make  it  look  as  if  we  were  afraid  to 
come  to  trial,  if  we  wanted  a  continuance  ;  so  it 's  just  as 
well,  if  you  feel  ready,  for  we  might  n't  get  it,  after 
all." 

Mink  experienced  a  new  fear.  "Ain't  he  a  mighty 
bad  kind  of  a  jedge  ter  hev  ?  "  he  faltered,  quaking  be- 
fore the  mental  vision  of  the  man  who  held  his  fate  in 
the  hollow  of  his  hand. 

"  No,"  said  Harshaw  musingly,  "  he  ain't  a  bad  judge 
for  us  for  this  reason,  —  though  he  's  mighty  apt  to  lean 
to  public  opinion,  he  's  a  sound  lawyer,  and  he  's  mighty 
careful  about  his  rulings.  He  don't  get  reversed  by  the 
S'preme  Court.  That 's  what  he  sits  on  the  bench  for : 
not  to  administer  justice,  —  he  don't  think  about  justice 
once  a  week,  —  but  to  be  affirmed  by  the  S'preme  Court. 
He  's  more  particular  than  Averill  in  little  things,  and  he 
won't  let  the  attorney-general  walk  over  him,  like  Averill 
does,  —  sorter  spunky." 

"  I  hev  seen  the  'torney-gineral,  —  hearn  him  speak 
wunst.  They  'lowed  he  war  a  fine  speaker,"  submitted 


7.V  THE  CLOUDS.  117 

Mink,  anxious  concerning  the  untried,  unmeasured  forces 
about  to  be  arrayed  against  him. 

"  Mighty  fine,"  said  Harshaw,  derisively.  "  Got  a 
beautiful  voice  —  for  calling  hogs  !  " 

He  laughed  and  rose.  u  Oh,  bless  my  soul,  I  plumb 
forgot !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  There  's  a  girl  out  here  want- 
ing to  see  you.  Don't  know  but  what  she  may  be  your 
sweetheart ;  "  he  winked  jocosely.  "  Perkins  said  she 
might  come  in  if  you  want  to  see  her.  Looks  like  she  's 
walked  about  forty  mile,  —  plumb  beat  out." 

Mink  was  flattered.  Instantly  he  thought  of  Elvira, 
and  he  remembered  the  journey  with  his  offering  of  the 
raccoon  that  fateful  night. 

"  She  hev  got  dark  hair  an'  eyes,  an'  air  toler'ble  leetle 
ter  be  growed  up  ?  "  he  asked.  The  remark  was  in  the 
form  of  a  question,  but  it  was  uttered  with  the  conviction 
of  certainty. 

"  Lord,  no  !  Sandy  hair,  big  brown  eyes,  and  tall, 
and  "  — 

He  paused,  for  Mink  had  risen  suddenly. 

"  Ye  go  tell  her,"  he  said,  passionately,  pointing  at  the 
door, —  "go  straight  an'  tell  her  ter  keep  in  mind  what 
I  said  bout'n  the  harnt  on  Thunderhead,  an'  how  I 
'lowed  she  favored  him ;  ef  she  can't  kill,  she  sp'iles  yer 
chance." 

"  Why,  look  here,  Mink,"  remonstrated  the  lawyer. 

"  Go  'long  an'  tell  her  !  "  cried  Mink,  imperatively. 
"  Tell  her  I  want  her  ter  cl'ar  out  from  hyar.  Tell  her 
I  can't  breathe  ef  she  's  nigh."  He  clutched  at  his 
throat,  tearing  open  his  collar  with  both  hands.  "  'T 
war  her  ez  brung  me  hyar.  'T  war  her  ez  got  me  locked 
an'  barred  up.  An'  now  I  don't  want  ter  see  her  no  mo' 
ez  long  ez  I  live.  Gin  her  that  word  from  me,  —  an' 
the  Herder  on  Thunderhead  what  she  favors." 

The  lawyer,  with  a  gesture  of  expostulation,  left  the 
cell,  appreciating  that  it  was  an  unpleasant  job  to  tell  the 
travel-stained  apparition  at  the  door  that  her  journey 
was  in  vain. 

She  was  sitting  upon  the  doorstep,  in  the  sunshine,  her 


118  iy  THE  CLOUDS. 

brown  bonnet  hanging  half  off  her  golden  head  ;  her 
homespun  dress  seemed  dark  upon  the  rough  gray  stone. 
She  watched  absently,  with  her  serious  brown  eyes,  the 
gauzy  wings  of  a  blue-bottle  that  droned  slumberously 
by.  She  held  with  idle  hands  the  yellow  blossoms  of  the 
golden-rod  that  she  had  plucked  by  the  way.  There  was 
no  passing  in  the  street,  hardly  a  sound  ;  so  still  she  sat 
that  a  lizard,  basking  in  the  sun,  did  not  scruple  to  run 
across  her  motionless  feet.  She  had  taken  off  her  coarse 
shoes  to  ease  them  after  her  long  walk,  for  they  were  swol- 
len and  bruised. 

She  looked  up  with  a  start  when  the  lawyer  stood  in 
the  door.  "  No,  sis,"  he  said  in  a  debonair  fashion, 
glancing  about  the  street.  "  Mink  ain't  in  a  good  humor 
to-day,  and  you  can't  see  him." 

She  cast  up  to  him  her  haggard  eyes,  full  of  appeal,  of 
fear,  of  woe.  He  had  no  intention  of  stabbing  her  with 
the  cruel  words  of  the  message.  "You  can't  see  him 
to-day ;  some  other  day."  He  waved  his  hand  with  a 
promissory  gesture,  and  was  turning  away. 

She  sprang  up  with  a  cry.  "  They  hendered  him  ! 
They  would  n't  let  him  !  "  she  said,  with  quivering  lips. 

"Yes,  yes.  They  hindered  him,"  he  kindly  prevari- 
cated. 

Her  eyes  were  suddenly  all  on  fire.  As  he  caught 
their  gleam  he  hesitated,  looking  at  her.  Her  cheeks 
were  flushed.  Her  teeth  were  set.  She  raised  her 
clenched  hand. 

"  He  lied  ter  me,  that  thar  jailer.  He  'lowed  I 
mought  see  Reuben.  He  lied  !  he  lied !  I  '11  —  I  '11"— 
She  dropped  her  threatening  hand.  "  Lord !  Lord  ! 
what  kin  I  do !  " 

"  Look  here,  girl,"  said  the  lawyer,  alarmed  at  the 
idea  of  an  indignant  demonstration  on  the  part  of  any  of 
his  client's  friends.  "  'T  ain't  the  jailer's  fault.  Mink 
said  he  would  n't  see  you." 

She  stood  as  if  stunned  for  a  moment.  Then,  her  con- 
fidence in  Mink  rebounding,  "  I  don't  b'lieve  ye !  "  she 
said,  bluntly. 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  119 

"  Well,  then,  maybe  you  will  when  I  tell  you  that  he 
told  me  to  ask  you  to  clear  out,  and  to  remind  you  of 
the  '  harnt '  on  Thunderhead  that  he  said  you  favored." 

She  shrank  back  as  if  he  had  struck  her.  He  eyed 
her  indignantly.  "  I  reckon  you  '11  believe  me  now. 
Well,  begone.  We've  had  enough  of  you." 

He  turned  and  walked  off  briskly.  He  heard  the 
court-house  bell  jangling  out  its  summons,  for  the  chan- 
cery court  was  in  session,  and  he  quickened  his  pace.  He 
gave  a  start  of  irritation  when  he  became  aware  that  she 
was  following  him.  He  turned  and  faced  her. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  he  said,  abruptly. 

"  I  want  ter  tell  ye  su'thin',"  she  gasped.  She  leaned 
forward  as  if  to  touch  his  arm.  He  moved  suddenly 
back,  and  she  almost  fell.  She  showed  no  anger,  but 
came  a  faltering  pace  nearer,  with  the  same  imploring 
gesture.  "  I  mus'  tell  ye  suthin'  'bout  Reuben,  soon  ez  I 
git  my  breath,  —  suthin'  ye  'd  never  b'lieve." 

Perhaps  it  was  an  unreasoning  anger  which  possessed 
him,  but  he  was  late,  and  she  had  cast  the  lie  in  his  teeth, 
and  somehow  her  presence  irked  him,  and  he  vaguely 
sought  to  forecast  what  she  had  to  say. 

"  No,  you  won't,  for  I  ain't  going  to  listen.  You  just 
take  yourself  off,  and  stay  at  home  if  you  know  how,  and 
satisfy  yourself  with  the  harm  you  have  done  already. 
You  'd  better  put  out,  and  so  I  tell  you." 

He  turned  once  more  and  strode  away  rapidly.  He 
heard  a  faint  cry  behind  him,  and,  for  a  time,  pursuing 
steps.  He  quickened  his  own.  In  fact,  he  presently  ran 
lightly,  —  marvelously  lightly  for  a  man  of  his  bulk,  — 
laughing  within  himself  the  while  at  the  absurdity  and 
incongruity  of  the  episode,  should  it  be  noticed  by  any 
one  in  the  sleepy  streets.  After  a  little  he  looked  over 
his  shoulder,  half  in  relenting,  half  in  curiosity. 

She  was  not  following  him.  She  was  limping  back 
toward  her  shoes,  that  lay  on  the  steps  of  the  jail. 


IX. 

IT  was  close  upon  nightfall  when  Alethea,  on  her 
homeward  journey,  reached  the  banks  of  the  Scolacutta 
River.  It  still  had  a  melancholy  version  of  the  sunset 
imprinted  upon  its  surface.  It  was  full  of  dreamy  crim- 
son tints,  and  olive-green  shadows,  and  gentle  pensive  ef- 
fects of  undistinguishable  lustres.  Its  ceaseless  monotone 
was  on  the  air ;  its  breath  was  of  freshness  and  fragrance  ; 
the  bluffs  that  towered  above  it  gave  the  austerity  of 
rugged  rocks  and  the  dignity  of  great  heights  to  the  in- 
cidents of  its  margin.  Stunted  trees  clung  to  the  niches 
of  these  splintered  cliffs ;  everywhere  along  the  banks 
the  leaves  of  the  sourwood  were  red  and  gay  as  a  banner, 
the  tassels  all  gleaming  and  white  ;  the  dogwood  showed 
a  flaunting  ochreous  tint,  but  the  sweet-gum  was  as  yet 
only  a  dull  purple,  and  the  sumach  had  merely  hung  out 
its  garnet  tufts.  An  amethystine  haze  rested  on  the 
nearest  mountains,  softening  the  polychromatic  richness 
that  glimmered  all  along  the  great  slopes ;  further  away 
they  wore  the  softened  blue  of  autumn.  The  scene  was 
familiar  to  her,  for  she  had  already  passed  through  the 
gap  of  the  mountain  down  into  Eskaqua  Cove,  and  her 
aunt  Dely's  house  lay  among  the  tawny  cornfields  on  the 
other  side.  Very  lonely  this  habitation  was  among  the 
great  company  of  the  mountains  ;  they  rose  about  the 
cove  on  every  side  with  a  visible  immensity  of  wilderness 
which  belittled  the  slight  hold  of  humanity  expressed  in 
the  house,  the  fields,  the  road  that  seemed  itself  a  va- 
grant, for  there  was  no  bourne  in  sight  of  the  wide  land- 
scape to  which  it  might  be  supposed  to  tend. 

The  log  cabin  had  heard  the  river  sing  for  nearly  a 
century.     It  appeared  for  many  years  the  ready  prey  of 


IN   THE   CLOUDS.  121 

decay :  the  chimney  leaned  from  the  wall,  the  daubing 
was  falling  from  the  chinking,  there  were  holes  in  the 
floor  and  the  roof.  Suddenly  a  great  change  came  over 
it.  The  frivolity  of  glass  enlivened  the  windows  where 
batten  shutters  had  formerly  sufficed ;  a  rickety  little 
porch  was  added  ;  a  tiny  room  was  partitioned  off  from 
this,  and  Mrs.  Purvine  rejoiced  in  the  distinction  of  pos- 
sessing a  company  bedroom,  which  was  far  from  being  a 
haven  of  comfort  to  the  occasional  occupant  of  those  close 
quarters.  She  had  always  been  known  to  harbor  certain 
ambitions.  Her  husband's  death,  some  two  or  three 
years  before,  had  given  her  liberty  to  express  her  tastes 
more  fully  than  when  hampered  by  his  cautious  conser- 
vatism. Ancl  now,  although  the  fields  might  be  overrun 
with  weeds,  and  the  sheep  have  the  rot,  and  the  poultry 
the  cholera,  and  the  cow  go  dry,  and  the  "  gyarden  truck  " 
defer  to  the  crab-grass,  and  the  bees,  clever  insects,  pre- 
pare only  sufficient  honey  for  their  own  use,  Mrs.  Pur- 
vine  preserved  the  appearance  of  having  made  a  great 
rise  in  life,  and  was  considered  by  the  casual  observer  a 
"  mighty  spry  widder  woman."  Such  a  one  as  Mrs. 
Sayles  shook  her  head  and  spared  not  the  vocabulary. 
"  Dely,"  she  would  observe,  "  air  my  husband's  sister, 
an'  I  ain't  goin'  ter  make  no  words  about  her.  Ef  she 
war  ennybody  else's  sister,  I  'd  up  an'  down  declar'  ez 
she  hev  been  snared  in  the  devices  o'  the  devil,  fur  sech 
pride  ez  hern  ain't  godly,  —  naw  sir !  nur  religion  nuther. 
Glass  in  the  winder  !  Shucks  !  she  'd  better  be  thinkin* 
'bout  gittin' light  on  salvation,  —  that  she  bed!  Folks 
ez  knowed  Dely  whenst  she  war  a  gal  knowed  she  war 
headin'  an'  sot  agin  her  elders,  an'  run  away  from  home 
ter  git  married,  an'  this  is  what  kem  of  sech  onregener- 
ate  ways.  Glass  in  the  winder !  I  '11  be  bound  the 
devil  looks  through  that  winder  every  day  at  yer  aunt 
Dely  whenst  she  sets  thar  an'  spins.  He  gits  a  glimge  o' 
her  when  she  ain't  a-lookin'.  The  pride  o'  the  y earth  is 
mighty  strong  in  her.  Ye  oughter  sati'fy  yerse'f  with 
'sociatin'  with  her  in  this  life,  fur  ye  ain't  a-goin'  ter 
meet  up  with  her  in  heaven.  Naw,  sir,  yer  aunt  Dely  '11 


122  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

remember  that  winder  in  the  darkness  o'  Torment,  an'  ef 
she  war  ennybody  else's  sister  than  my  own  husband's 
I'd  say  so." 

Mrs.  Purvine  was  standing  on  the  porch,  so  fine  a 
manifestation  of  her  pride,  and  gazing  with  unrecogniz- 
ing  curiosity  at  Alethea  as  the  girl  came  up  the  stony 
hillside. 

Mrs.  Purvine  hardly  looked  the  woman  of  a  vaulting 
worldly  ambition.  She  had  a  broad,  moon-like  face  and 
blue  eyes  with  much  of  the  whites  showing,  the  more  as 
she  had  a  trick  of  peering  over  her  spectacles.  She  had 
no  teeth ;  despite  her  social  culture  she  had  never  heard 
of  a  false  set,  or  her  mouth  would  have  been  a  glittering 
illustration  of  the  dentist's  art.  She  held  HI  her  hand  a 
short  clay  pipe,  from  which  the  smoke  slowly  curled. 
She  wore  a  blue-checked  homespun  apron,  but  a  calico 
gown,  being,  according  to  report,  "  too  triflin' "  to  do 
very  much  weaving  at  home,  and  the  cross-roads  store 
was  only  ten  miles  from  her  house,  on  the  road  to 
Shaftesville.  She  had  journeyed  even  to  the  town,  twice 
or  thrice  in  her  life,  mounted  on  a  gray  mare  with  a  colt 
at  her  heels,  and  had  looked  from  beneath  her  sun-bonnet 
at  the  metropolitan  splendors  and  habits  with  a  starve- 
ling's delight  in  such  of  the  meagre  conventional  graces 
of  life  as  the  little  village  possessed,  and  as  were  vouch- 
safed to  her  comprehension.  Nobody  knew  whence  she 
derived  her  "  vagrantin'  ways  ;  "  for  these  excursions 
earned  for  her  the  reputation  of  an  insatiate  traveler, 
and  her  frivolous  disposition  and  pride  were  the  occasion 
of  much  reprehension  and  comment.  They  could  hardly 
take  the  form  of  remonstrance,  however,  without  open 
rupture ;  for  Mrs.  Purvine,  right  well  aware  of  them, 
with  an  acumen  and  diplomacy  grafted  like  some  strange 
exotic  upon  her  simple  character,  was  always  bewailing 
the  frivolous  tendency  of  the  times,  the  pride  of  "  some 
folks,"  the  worthless  nature  of  women  nowadays,  and 
foisting  herself  upon  her  interlocutor  as  an  example  of 
all  homely  and  primitive  tastes  and  virtues. 

Her  moon  face  suddenly  assumed  an  expression  of  rec- 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  123 

ognition  and  of  stern  reprobation  as  she  came  solemnly 
down  from  the  door,  a  feat  which  it  was  difficult  to  per- 
form with  stateliness  or  even  safety ;  for  the  two  or  three 
plank  steps  were  only  set  against  the  wall,  and  although 
far  more  imposing  than  the  hewn  logs  or  rough  stones 
customary  elsewhere,  they  were  extremely  insecure.  Of- 
ten when  a  foot  was  placed  upon  the  lowest  of  the  num- 
ber they  careened  forward  with  the  weight. 

Mrs.  Purvine  accomplished  the  descent  with  dignity, 
and  as  she  held  the  gate  open  she  addressed  her  niece, 
looking  full  in  her  tear-stained  face  :  — 

"  I  knowed  it  would  kem  ter  this,  —  I  knowed  it, 
sooner  or  later.  What 's  that  thar  step-mother  o'  yourn 
been  doin'  ter  ye  ?  " 

Albeit  Mrs.  Sayles  had  few  equals  as  a  censor,  Mrs. 
Purvine,  with  a  secret  intuition  of  her  animadversions, 
returned  them  as  best  she  might,  and  Mrs.  Sayles's  diffi- 
cult position  as  a  step-mother  rendered  her  as  a  shorn 
lamb  to  the  blast. 

"  Nuthin',"  sobbed  Alethea,  —  "  nuthin'  ez  I  knows 
on."  She  started  up  the  steps,  which  bounded  forward 
with  a  precipitancy  that  had  a  startling  effect  as  if  the 
house  had  jumped  at  her.  Alethea  stumbled,  and  Mrs. 
Purvine  commented  upon  her  awkwardness  :  — 

"  Look  at  the  gal,  —  usin'  her  feet  with  no  mo'  nim- 
bleness  'n  a  cow.  Laws-a-massy,  young  folks  ain't  what 
they  war  in  my  day.  Whenst  I  war  a  gal,  'fore  I  jined 
the  church  an'  tuk  ter  consortin'  with  the  saints,  ye 
oughter  hev  seen  me  dance  !  Could  shake  my  foot  along 
with  the  nimblest !  But  I  ain't  crackin'  up  bran  dances, 
nuther.  I  'm  a  perfessin'  member,  —  bless  the  Lord  ! 
Satan  hides  in  a  fiddle.  Ye  always  remember  yer  aunt 
Dely  tole  ye  that  word.  An'  ef  ever  ye  air  condemned 
ter  Torment,  don't  ye  up  an'  'low  ez  ye  hed  no  1'arnin' ; 
don't  ye  do  it."  Then  looking  over  her  spectacles, 
"What  ails  ye,  ef  't  ain't  that  step-mother  ?  " 

"  I  hev  been  ter  Shaftesville.  I  bided  all  night  at 
Cousin  Jane  Scruggs's  in  Piomingo  Cove,  an'  next  day  I 
footed  it  ter  town." 


124  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

This  announcement  would  have  surprised  any  one 
more  than  the  roving  Mrs.  Purvine.  Even  she  demanded, 
as  in  duty  bound,  with  every  intimation  of  deep  con- 
tempt, "  Laws-a-massy,  what  ye  wanter  go  ter  Shaftes- 
villefur?" 

"I  went  ter  see  Reuben  Lorey  in  jail,"  replied  Ale- 
thea. 

Mrs.  Purvine  looked  at  her  with  an  expression  of  deep 
exasperation.  "  Waal,"  she  observed  sarcastically,  "  I  'd 
hev  liked  ter  seen  him  thar,  too.  I  ain't  seen  ez  good  a 
fit  ez  Mink  Lorey  an'  the  county  jail  fur  this  many  a 
day.  Kem  hyar  one  night,  an'  tuk  them  bran'  new  front 
steps  o'  mine,  an'  hung  'em  up  on  the  martin-house.  An' 
thar  war  a  powerful  deep  snow  that  night,  an'  it  kivered 
the  consarn  so  ez  nex'  mornin'  we  could  n't  find  out  what 
unyearthly  thing  hed  fell  on  the  martin-house,  an'  we 
war  fairly  feared  't  war  a  warnin'  or  a  jedgmint  till  we 
missed  them  front  steps.  They  ain't  never  been  so  stiddy 
sence." 

Alethea  had  laid  aside  her  bonnet  and  bathed  her  face. 
She  was  going  about  the  house  in  a  way  which  was  a 
tribute  to  Mrs.  Purvine's  hospitality,  for  she  felt  much  at 
home  there.  She  had  glanced  toward  the  great  fireplace, 
where  the  ashes  piled  on  the  top  of  the  oven  and  the  cof- 
fee-pot perched  on  the  trivet  over  the  coals  told  that  the 
work  of  preparing  supper  was  already  done.  She  sud- 
denly took  down  the  quilting  frame,  suspended  to  the 
beams  above  by  long  bands  of  cloth,  produced  thread 
and  thimble  from  her  pocket,  and,  seating  herself  before 
it  as  before  a  table,  began  to  quilt  dexterously  and  neatly 
where  Mrs.  Purvine's  somewhat  erratic  performance  had 
left  off  long  before.  The  smouldering  firelight  touched 
her  fine,  glistening  hair,  her  pensive,  downcast  face  ; 
there  was  still  light  enough  in  the  room  through  the  per- 
nicious glass  window  to  reveal  the  grace  of  her  postures 
and  her  slender  figure.  Aunt  Dely,  with  some  instinct 
for  beauty  native  in  her  blood  along  with  her  "  vagrantin' 
ways  "  and  her  original  opinions,  contemplated  her  for  a 
time,  and  presently  commented  upon  her. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  125 

"  I  'm  yer  father's  own  sister,"  she  averred.  "  I  ain't 
denyin'  it  none,  though  he  did  go  an'  marry  that  thar 
Jessuj,  woman,  ez  nobody  could  abide  ;  an'  I  hate  ter  see 
a  peart  gal  like  you-uns,  ez  air  kin  ter  me,  a-sp'ilin'  her 
eyes  an'  a-cryin'  over  a  feller  ez  her  folks  don't  favor  no- 
ways. Yer  elders  knows  bes',  Lethe." 

"  Why,  aunt  Dely,  you-uns  married  a  man  ez  yer  eld- 
ers never  favored  ;  they  war  powerful  sot  agin  him." 

Mrs.  Purvine  was  clad  in  logic  as  in  armor. 

"  An'  look  how  it  turned  out,  —  him  dead  an'  me  a 
widder  woman  !  " 

Alethea  stitched  on  silently  for  a  moment.  Then  she 
observed  with  unusual  softness,  for  she  feared  being  ac- 
counted "  sassy,"  "  I  'lowed  I  hed  hearn  ye  say  he  war 
fifty-five  year  old,  when  he  died." 

"  What  's  fifty-five  ?  "  demanded  Mrs.  Purvine  ag- 
gressively. "  I  knowed  a  man  ez  war  a  hunderd  an' 
ten." 

And  so  Alethea  was  forced  to  acquiesce  in  the  propo- 
sition that  Mrs.  Purvine's  consort  had  been  cut  off  in  the 
flower  of  his  youth  as  a  judgment  for  having  some  thirty 
years  previous  eloped  with  the  girl  of  his  heart. 

Both  women  looked  conscious  when  a  sudden  step 
sounded  in  cautious  ascent  of  the  flight  before  the  door, 
which  illustrated  so  pointedly  the  truism  that  pride  goes 
before  a  fall,  and  a  tall,  lank,  stoop-shouldered,  red- 
headed fellow  strode  in  at  the  door. 

"  Air  yer  eyesight  failin'  ye,  Jerry  Price  ?  "  Mrs.  Pur- 
vine admonished  him.  He  was  her  husband's  nephew. 
"  Thar  's  Lethe  Sayles." 

Being  called  to  order  in  this  manner  might  well  em- 
barrass the  young  man,  who  had  not  expected  to  see  Ale- 
thea, and  who  was  rebuked  for  the  dereliction  before  he 
was  well  in  the  room. 

He  shambled  up  to  shake  hands  with  her  with  a  some- 
what elaborate  show  of  cordiality. 

"Waal,  Lethe,"  he  exclaimed,  "ye  air  a  sight  fur  sore 
eyes  !  Ain't  seen  ye  fur  a  month  o'  Sundays." 

"  Looks  like  she  hed  sore  eyes  herself,  bound  with  red 


s 

126  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

ferretin',"  commented  Mrs.  Purvine  gruffly.  She  often 
had  a  disposition,  as  she  averred,  to  knock  these  young 
people's  heads  together,  —  a  sufficiently  dangerous  pro- 
ceeding, for  according  to  her  account  there  were  not 
two  such  hard  heads  in  all  Eskaqua  Cove  and  Piomingo 
to  boot.  She  had  cherished  an  earnest  desire  to  make 
a  match  between  them,  frustrated  only  by  their  failure 
to  second  the  motion.  They  were  well  aware  of  this, 
and  it  impaired  the  ease  of  their  relations,  hampering 
even  the  exchange  of  the  compliments  of  the  season. 

"  Young  folks  take  the  lead  !  "  Mrs.  Purvine  often  ex- 
claimed, oblivious  of  her  own  sentimental  history.  "  Ef 
nobody  war  wantin'  'em  ter  marry  they  'd  be  runnin'  off 
with  one  another." 

She  had  considered  this  breach  of  obedience  on  the 
part  of  her  husband's  nephew  a  special  instance  of  filial 
ingratitude,  and  had  begun  to  remind  him,  and  in  fact  to 
remember,  all  that  she  had  done  for  him. 

"  Folkses  'lowed  ter  me,  whenst  Jerry  Price's  mammy 
died,  ez  I  hed  better  leave  him  be,  an'  his  aunt  Melindy 
Jane  would  keer  fur  him.  An'  I  hed  n't  been  merried 
but  a  few  years,  an'  bein'  ez  I  runned  away  my  folks 
would  n't  gin  me  nuthin',  an'  me  an'  my  old  man  war 
most  o'  the  furniture  we  hed  in  the  house.  But  law  !  we 
hed  plenty  arter  a  while,  an'  ter  spare !  "  cried  the  rich 
aunt  Dely.  "  An'  they  all  'lowed  I  hed  better  not  lum- 
ber myse'f  up  with  other  folkses  chill'n.  Waal,  I  never 
expected  ter,  when  I  went  ter  the  fun 'el.  But  thaj'  on 
the  floor  sot  the  hardest-featured  infant  I  ever  seen,  red- 
headed, blinkin'  eye,  lean,  an'  sucked  his  thumb !  An' 
all  them  folks  war  standin'  'round  him,  lookin'  down  at 
him  with  thar  eyes  all  perverted  an'  stretched,  like  a 
gobbler  looks  at  a  deedie  'fore  he  pecks  him  on  the 
noodle.  An'  they  were  all  pityin'  Melindy  Jane  fur 
hevin'  ter  keer  fur  him.  Thar  she  war  settin'  wropped 
in  a  shawl,  an'  'pearin'  ez  ef  she  could  bite  a  ten-penny 
nail  in  two,  sayin'  she  mus'  submit  ter  the  Lord  !  Waal, 
'peared  ter  me  ez  I  jes'  could  view  the  futur',  an'  the 
sorter  time  Red-head  would  hev  along  o'  a  woman  ez  war 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  127 

submittin'  on  account  o'  him  ter  the  Lord  !  An'  I  jes' 
ups  an'  lied  afore  'em  all.  I  sez,  '  That 's  the  parties' 
child  I  ever  see.  Surely  he  is  ! '  An'  I  sez  right  hearty 
ter  the  b'reaved  husband,  '  Ephr'im,  ef  ye  '11  gin  him  ter 
me,  I  '11  keer  fur  him  till  he  's  able  ter  keer  fur  me.'  An' 
Eph  looked  up  ez  s'prised  an'  pleased,  and  says,  *  Will 
ye,  Dely  ? '  An'  ef  ye  '11  b  lieve  me,  arter  I  lied  called 
him  '  party  '  Melindy  Jane  'lowed  she  wanted  him,  an'  hed 
nuthin'  ter  say  'bout  the  Lord.  But  I  jes'  stepped  inter 
the  floor  an'  snatched  him  up  under  my  arm,  an'  set  out 
an'  toted  him  five  mile  home.  An'  lean  ez  he  'peared, 
he  war  middlin'  heavy.  I  rubbed  some  pepper  on  his 
thumb  that  night.  He  ain't  sucked  it  sence." 

Jerry  Price  used  to  listen,  calmly  smoking,  hardly 
identifying  himself  —  as  what  man  would  !  —  with  the 
homely  subject  of  the  sketch ;  and  yet  with  a  certain 
sense  of  obligation  to  Mrs.  Purvine,  returning  thanks  in 
some  sort  in  behalf  of  the  unprepossessing  infant. 

"  Ye  an'  me  made  a  right  good  trade  out'n  it,  ain't  we, 
aunt  Dely  ?  "  he  would  say. 

She  formerly  accorded  jocund  acquiescence  to  this 
blithe  proposition.  But  now  she  would  exclaim,  "  Did 
ennybody  think  ye  'd  grow  up  ter  set  yerse'f  ter  spite  me, 
an'  won't  do  nuthin'  I  ax  ye  ?  'Kase  I  hev  sot  my  heart 
on  hevin'  Lethe  Sayles  ter  live  along  o'  me,  ye  won't  go 
courtin'  her." 

The  specious  Price  would  demand,  "  How  d'  ye  know 
ez  I  won't  ?  " 

And  hope  would  once  more  gleam  from  the  ashes  of 
Mrs.  Purvine's  disappointments. 

"  Lethe  's  been  ter  Shaftesville,"  she  said,  nodding 
triumphantly,  sure  to  impress  Jerry  with  this  statement, 
for  he  was  as  worldly  as  she.  Then,  with  sudden  anima- 
tion, she  turned  to  her  niece :  "  Lethe,  did  ye  see  enny 
lookin'-glasses  thar  like  mine  ?  "  She  pointed  to  a  cherry- 
framed  mirror,  some  ten  or  twelve  inches  square,  hung 
upon  the  wall  at  a  height  that  prevented  it  from  reflect- 
ing aught  but  the  opposite  wall.  It  was  as  well,  perhaps, 
for  glass  of  that  quality  could  only  return  a  corrugated 


128  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

image  that  might  have  induced  depression  of  spirit  in 
one  gazing  on  the  perversions  of  its  surface.  The  walls 
were  pasted  over  with  pictures  from  almanacs  and  bright- 
tinted  railway  advertisements  ;  for  her  husband  had  once 
been  postmaster  of  the  invisible  neighborhood,  and  these 
were  the  most  important  trophies  and  emoluments  of  the 
office.  They  quite  covered  the  mellow  brown  logs  and 
the  daubing  between,  and  were  as  crude  and  gairish  a 
substitute  as  well  might  be.  They  were  the  joy  of  Mrs. 
Purvine's  heart,  however,  and  as  she  dwelt  upon  them 
and  committed  them  to  memory  they  assumed  all  the 
functions  of  a  literature.  She  valued  hardly  less  a  cheap 
clock  that  stood  upon  a  shelf,  and  gave  no  more  intima- 
tion of  the  passage  of  time  than  a  polite  hostess.  Whether 
it  had  no  works,  whether  it  had  sustained  some  internal 
injury,  whether  the  worldly  nephew  and  aunt  had  not 
sufficient  knowledge  of  the  springs  of  its  being  to  wind 
it  up,  Alethea  never  speculated  and  Mrs.  Purvine  did 
not  care.  It  was  more  than  was  owned  by  any  one  else 
in  her  acquaintance,  and  she  rejoiced  without  stint  in  its 
possession. 

"  An'  I  '11  be  bound  ye  never  seen  no  clock  like  mine  !  " 
she  said. 

"  Naw  'm,"  said  Alethea  ;  "  but  I  jes'  went  ter  the 
jail." 

"  What  fur  ? "  demanded  Jerry.  He  was  leaning 
against  the  door,  and  did  not  notice  that  he  kept  the 
light  from  Alethea's  work,  but  she  was  unwilling  to  re- 
monstrate, and  sewed  on  in  the  shadow. 

"  She  went  ter  see  Mink  Lorey,"  said  his  aunt.  "  I 
hope  he  'lowed  he  war  sorry  fur  his  sins,  —  'though  't 
won't  do  him  no  good  now  ;  oughter  hev  been  sorry 
fust." 

"  I  never  seen  him,"  said  Alethea. 

Mrs.  Purvine  had  knelt  before  the  fire  for  the  purpose 
of  investigating  the  baking  of  the  egg-bread ;  she  held 
the  lid  of  the  oven  up  with  a  bit  of  kindling,  while  she 
turned  half  around  to  fix  an  astonished  gaze  on  the 
girl. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  129 

"In  the  name  o'  —  Moses  !  "  —  she  produced  the  ad- 
juration as  if  she  thought  it  equal  to  the  occasion,  — • 
"  what  did  ye  kem  hyar  lyin'  'bout'n  it,  Lethe,  an'  sayin' 
ye  hed  been  ter  see  him  ?  Ye  '11  git  yer  nose  burnt,  an' 
I  '11  be  glad  of  it."  She  broke  off  suddenly,  addressing 
a  hound  that,  lured  by  the  appetizing  odor  gushing  out 
from  under  the  lid  of  the  oven,  had  approached  with  a 
sinuous,  beguiling  motion,  and  was  extending  his  long 
neck.  "  Ye  'd  look  mighty  desirable  with  a  blister  on 
it." 

"  I  never  said  I  seen  Reuben,"  returned  Alethea,  re- 
gardless of  this  interlude.  "  He  would  n't  see  me." 

"  What  fur  ?  "  asked  Jerry  excitedly. 

The  lid  fell  from  Mrs.  Purvine's  hand  upon  the  oven 
with  a  crash.  She  was  speechless  with  amazement. 

Alethea  sat,  her  hands  clasped  on  the  quilting  frame, 
the  glow  of  the  firelight  full  on  her  golden  hair;  her 
beauty  seemed  heightened  by  the  refined  pathos  which 
weeping  often  leaves  upon  the  face  when  it  is  once  more 
calm.  It  was  hard  to  say  the  cruel  words,  but  her  voice 
was  steady. 

"He  'lowed  I  favored  the  harnt  on  Thunderhead 
what  sp'iles  folkses'  prospects.  I  hed  'lowed  ter  him, 
when  I  las'  seen  him,  ez  he  oughter  gin  what  he  hed  ter 
old  man  Griff.  An'  he  went  ter  Shaftesville.  An'  they 
jailed  him." 

Mrs.  Purvine's  moon  face  turned  scarlet.  "  Now, 
ain't  ye  up  an'  down  'shamed  o'  yerse'f,  Lethe  Ann 
Sayles  ?  Ter  set  store  by  a  man  ez  talks  ter  you-uns 
like  that  !  "  She  rose,  with  a  toss  of  her  head.  "  The 
kentry  hev  got  my  cornsent  ter  hang  him  !  " 

She  began  to  move  about  more  briskly  as  she  placed 
the  plates  on  the  table.  The  fact  of  this  breach  between 
Alethea  and  Mink  was  auspicious  to  her  darling  scheme. 
"  Naw,  child,"  she  said  as  the  girl  offered  to  assist,  "  ye 
set  an'  talk  ter  Jerry  'bout  Mink ;  he  wants  ter  hear 
'bout  Mink." 

"  I  wisht  I  could  be  witness  fur  Reuben,"  said  Alethea, 
feeling  an  intense  relief  to  be  able  to  mention  this  with- 


130  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

out  revealing  her  secret.  "  I  b'lieve  I  could  holp  Reu- 
ben some." 

"  Why  n't  ye  go  ter  his  lawyer  ?  "  asked  Jerry.  "  Har- 
shaw,  they  say,  he  hev  got  ter  defend  him." 

"  He  would  n't  listen  ;  he  fairly  run  from  me." 

"  In  Moses's  name  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Purvine,  with  sibilant 
inversion  of  her  favorite  exclamation,  "  what  ails  them 
crazy  bucks  in  Shaftesville  ?  All  of  'em  got  the  jim-jams, 
in  jail  an'  out !  " 

"  Waal,"  said  Jerry  coolly,  u  ef  ye  want  ter  tell  him 
sech  ez  ye  know,  I  '11  make  him  listen  ter  ye.  I  hev 
been  summonsed  on  the  jury  fur  the  nex'  term,  an'  I  '11 
hev  ter  go  ter  Shaftesville  or  be  fined.  An'  ef  ye  air 
thar  I  '11  see  Harshaw  don't  run  from  ye,  —  else  he  won't 
run  fur,  no  mo'.  He  '11  lack  his  motions  arter  that." 

"  Ai-yi  !  When  Jerry  talks  he  ain't  minchin'  his 
words !  "  cried  aunt  Dely  admiringly. 

Alethea  was  very  grateful  for  this  stalwart  champion- 
ship. She  said  nothing,  however,  for  she  had  no  cultured 
phrases  of  acknowledgment.  Her  spirits  rose  ;  her  flag- 
ging brain  was  once  more  alert;  she  was  eager  to  be 
alone,  —  to  think  what  she  would  say  to  the  lawyer,  to 
Mink,  on  the  witness-stand.  She  hardly  noticed  Mrs. 
Purvine's  manner  of  self-gratulation,  or  her  frequent 
glances  toward  her  young  people  as  they  sat  together  be- 
fore the  dull  fire.  Alethea  was  very  beautiful,  and  Jerry 
—  Mrs.  Purvine  never  deluded  herself  with  denials  of 
her  adopted  son's  ugliness — was  good  and  manly,  and 
as  sharp  as  a  brier.  Any  man  might  be  esteemed  a  poor 
match  for  looks,  unless  it  were  the  worthless  Mink,  so 
safe  in  jail. 

The  feat  a  woman's  imagination  can  accomplish  in  a 
given  time  is  the  most  triumphant  illustration  of  the 
agility  of  the  human  mind.  Before  either  spoke  again 
Mrs.  Purvine  had  elaborated  every  detail  of  the  court- 
ship and  engagement,  pausing  from  time  to  time,  as  she 
placed  the  dishes  on  the  table,  and  looking  about  the  room 
in  complete  abstraction,  planning  how  to  arrange  the  fur- 
niture to  give  space  for  the  dancing  at  the  infair. 


/AT  THE   CLOUDS.  131 

"  Set  out  the  supper  in  the  shed-room,  an'  take  these 
hyar  two  beds  an'  thar  steads  up-steers  inter  the  roof- 
room,"  she  muttered,  measuring  with  her  eye.  "The 
loom  kin  jes'  be  h'isted  out  'n  the  shed-room  inter  the 
yard  —  an'  I  don't  keer  ef  I  never  see  it  agin  —  an'  the 
spinning-wheels  set  in  the  bedroom."  As  to  Satan,  she 
had  forgotten  that  he  was  quite  capable  of  making  him- 
self small  enough  to  hide  in  the  fiddle. 

The  light  was  growing  dull  out  of  doors ;  the  stridu- 
lous  voices  of  the  September  insects  sounded  ceaselessly, 
scarcely  impinging  upon  the  sense  of  quiet,  so  monoto- 
nous was  the  iteration  of  their  song.  The  strokes  of  an 
axe,  betokening  activity  at  the  wood-pile,  seemed  to  cleave 
the  silence,  and  reverberated  from  the  mountains,  as  if 
the  echoes  were  keeping  a  tally.  Alethea  had  rolled  up 
the  quilting  frame,  and  it  swung  from  the  beams.  Pres- 
ently the  children  were  trooping  in,  three  great  awkward 
boys,  who  evidently  formed  themselves  upon  Jerry  Price's 
manner,  except  the  youngest,  a  lad  of  fourteen,  whose 
face  had  a  certain  infantile  lower,  saved  over  from  his 
juvenile  days,  and  concentrating  readily  into  a  pout. 
Even  his  mother  admitted  that  he  was  "  sp'iled  some." 
Together  they  made  short  work  of  the  egg-bread  and 
"  br'iled  bacon." 

They  tarried  not  long  afterward,  but  trooped  noisily 
up  the  ladder  to  the  roof-room  ;  and  as  they  strode  about 
on  the  floor,  which  was  also  the  ceiling  of  the  room  be- 
low, it  seemed  momently  that  they  would  certainly  come 
through. 

Jerry  lighted  his  pipe  and  sat  on  the  doorstep  ;  the 
fashionable  Mrs.  Purvine  lighted  hers  and  took  a  chair 
near.  All  the  doors  stood  open,  for  the  night  was  sultry. 
The  stars  were  very  bright  in  the  moonless  sky.  The 
dogs  lolling  their  .tongues,  sat  on  the  porch,  or  lay  in  the 
dewy  grass  ;  making  incursions  now  and  then  into  the 
room,  climbing  cavalierly  over  Jerry's  superfluity  of  long 
legs,  and  nosing  about  among  the  ashes  to  make  sure 
that  none  of  the  scraps  had  escaped. 

"  Don't  ye  know  I  never  waste  nuthin',  ye  grisly  glut- 


132  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

tons  ?  "  demanded  Mrs.  Purvine,  the  model  housekeeper. 
But  their  fat  sides  did  not  confirm  this  statement,  and, 
bating  a  wag  of  homage  in  the  extreme  tip  of  their  tails, 
they  paid  no  attention  to  her. 

"  What  Tm  a-honin'  ter  know,"  said  Jerry  Price  pres- 
ently, "  air  how  them  boys  ez  war  along  o'  Mink  an'  war 
summonsed  ez  witnesses  air  goin'  ter  prove  he  war  drunk. 
Ef  they  'low  Mink  war  drunk  the  'torney-gin'al  '11  try  ter 
make  out  he  war  sober.  He  's  a-goin'  ter  ax,  *  Whar  'd 
he  git  the  whiskey,  bein'  's  all  the  still  thar  is  air  a  bonded 
still,  an'  by  law  can't  sell  less  'n  five  gallons.  Then  them 
boys  11  be  af  eard  ter  tell  whar  they  got  the  whiskey,  'kase 
folks  mought  think  they  knowed  who  war  makin'  it.  An' 
ef  the  moonshiners  war  raided,  they  mought  declar'  ez 
some  o'  them  boys  war  aidin'  an'  abettin'  'em,  an'  the 
revenuers  would  arrest  them  too." 

u  Don't  ye  know  who  air  makin'  it  ?  "  Alethea  asked, 
a  vivid  picture  in  her  mind  of  Boke's  barn,  and  Jerry 
Price  and  his  cronies  stalking  their  fantastic  rounds 
about  it. 

"  Naw,  sir  !  an'  don't  wanter,  nuther.  I  war  along  o' 
'em  in  the  woods  that  night.  I  holped  tote  the  jug.  We 
lef '  it  empty  in  Boke's  barn  an'  fund  it  filled,  but  I  dunno 
nuthin'  mo'." 

"  Lethe,"  said  Mrs.  Purvine,  handing  her  a  ball  of 
gray  yarn,  the  knitting-needles  thrust  through  an  ill-knit 
beginning  of  a  sock,  "  I  wish  ye  'd  try  ter  find  out  whar 
I  drapped  them  stitches,  an'  ravel  it  out  an'  knit  it  up 
agin.  I  hate  ter  do  my  work  over,  an'  I  hev  ter  be  pow- 
erful partic'lar  with  Jerry's  socks,  —  he  wears  'em  out  so 
fas'.  Ye  'd  'low  he  war  a  thousand-legs,  ef  ye  could  see 
the  stacks  of  'em  I  hev  ter  darn." 

Alethea  drew  up  a  great  rocking-chair,  and  now  and 
then  leaned  over  its  arms  toward  the  fife  to  catch  the  red 
glow  of  the  embers  upon  her  work,  as  her  deft  hands  re- 
paired the  damages  of  Mrs.  Purvine's  inattention.  Sud- 
denly she  said  in  a  pondering  tone,  "  Why  would  the 
'torney-gineral  ruther  prove  Reuben  war  sober  ?  " 

"  'Kase  ef  he  war  proved  drunk  the  jury  would  lean 
ter  him,"  said  Jerry. 


IN  THE    CLOUDS.  133 

She  laid  her  work  down  in  her  lap,  and  gazed  intently 
at  him.  His  face  had  the  transient  glow  of  his  pipe 
upon  it,  and  then,  as  he  took  it  from  his  lips,  was  as 
indistinct  as  his  long,  lank  figure  disposed  in  the  door- 
way. 

"  They  ought  n't  ter  do  it,  —  but  they  do.  I  ain't 
never  seen  nare  jury  hold  a  drunk  man  ez  up  an'  down 
'sponsible  ez  ef  he  war  sober.  They  '11  lean  ter  him  ef 
he  could  be  proved  drunk." 

Alethea  said  nothing.  Her  mental  attitude  was  one 
of  intense  receptivity.  Her  keen  appreciation  of  how 
much  depended  on  her  comprehension,  her  desire  that 
no  point  should  escape  her  attention,  were  positive  pain 
in  their  acute  consciousness. 

The  discerning  Jerry  went  on  with  that  acumen  and 
cogency  which  were  such  odd  concomitants  of  his  igno- 
rance and  uncouthness :  — 

"  It  makes  me  laff  every  time  I  see  a  witness  swore 
ter  tell  '  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  an'  nuthin'  but  the 
truth.'  Folks  is  so  apt  ter  b'lieve  the  truth  air  jes*  what 
they  wanter  b'lieve.  Git  them  boys  skeered  up  right 
smart  'bout  the  revenuers  on  one  side  an'  the  moonshin- 
ers on  t'  other,  an*  they  '11  feel  the  truth  war  ez  none  o' 
we-uns  bed  ennythin'  ter  drink  that  night ;  mought  hev 
hed  a  dram  o'  cider,  or  mebbe  nuther  stronger  'n  yerb 
tea,  but  nobody  war  bodaciously  boozy.  Then  they  don't 
know  sure  enough  whar  the  liquor  kem  from  ;  mos'  folks 
don't  b'lieve  thar  's  no  still  round  'bout  the  mountings 
now." 

Alethea  leaned  back  in  the  rocking-chair,  her  nerve- 
less hands  falling  idly  upon  the  work  in  her  lap.  The 
crude  mosaic  of  advertisements  on  the  walls  started  out 
with  abnormal  distinctness,  as  a  tiny  flame  rose  from  the 
embers  and  fell  into  sudden  extinction  among  the  ashes, 
leaving  the  only  picture  in  the  room  the  dusky  night- 
scene  dimly  painted  in  purple  and  dove  color  upon  the 
panes  of  the  window. 

It  was  only  she  who  could  remedy  the  deficiency  in 
this  valuable  testimony.  She  knew  full  well  the  source 


134  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

of  their  secret  supply.  She  it  was  who  had  seen  the  jug 
left  in  the  barn  by  the  roistering  blades,  and  the  moon- 
shiner swing  down  from  the  loft  to  seize  upon  it.  She 
had  his  full  confession  from  his  own  lips.  She  appre- 
ciated the  distinctions  the  jury  would  make  between  hila- 
rious drunken  sport  and  coolly  intentional  malice  in  the 
prisoner,  and  that  it  was  in  her  hands  to  sacrifice  one  of 
these  men  to  the  other. 

For  the  first  time  she  was  quick  to  distrust  her  own 
intuitions.  Her  tyrant  conscience,  hitherto  always  ready 
to  immolate  every  cherished  wish  on  the  altar  of  the 
right,  seemed  now  the  suavest  mentor,  urging  that  her 
lover's  liberty,  his  life  for  aught  she  knew,  should  not  be 
jeopardized  to  protect  a  man  whose  vocation  she  ac- 
counted a  curse  to  the  community.  She  felt  a  secret 
amaze  that  her  first  vague  project  should  expand  into  a 
fully  equipped  plan,  with  hardly  a  conscious  process  of 
thought  to  give  it  shape  and  detail.  Her  natural  doubts, 
her  efforts  at  alternatives,  were  flouted  by  some  inner  im- 
perious determination.  It  was  in  the  nature  of  a  conces- 
sion from  this  suddenly  elate  arid  willful  power  that  she 
obtained  her  own  consent,  as  she  would  have  phrased 
it,  to  warn  Sam  Marvin,  for  the  sake  of  his  "  houseful," 
that  he  might  elude  capture,  and  perhaps  save  his  still 
and  appliances  from  destruction.  And  she  would  warn 
Jerry,  too,  despite  that  triumphant,  tumultuous  con- 
sciousness which  held  all  else  so  slight  since  she  had 
knowledge  that  could  aid  in  proving  Mink's  irresponsi- 
bility for  what  he  had  really  done,  and  his  innocence  of 
the  graver  crime  of  which  he  was  accused. 

"Jerry,"  she  said,  observing  that  Mrs.  Purvine  had 
fallen  asleep  in  her  chair,  her  moon  face  all  askew,  her 
idle  hands  neatly  rolled  up  in  her  apron,  —  "  Jerry,  I 
reckon  ye  would  n't  want  me  a-goin'  testifyin'  ter  Shaftes- 
ville  ef  ye  knowed  I  seen  you-uns  leave  the  jug  that  even- 
in'  in  Boke's  barn.  I  sca'cely  b'lieved  't  war  ye,  at  fust, 
all  of  ye  acted  so  cur'ous ;  I  'lowed  't  war  sperits  in  yer 
likeness.  An'  I  seen  the  distiller  kem  an'  git  the  jug. 
An'  he  seen  me." 


7.V  THE   CLOUDS.  135 

44  Look-a-hyar,  Lethe  !  "  exclaimed  Jerry,  seriously. 
"  Don't  joke  'bout  sech  ez  that.  Ye  know  the  moonshin- 
ers mought  fairly  kill  ye,  ef  they  fund  out  ye  knowed 
an'  tole  on  'em.  They  hev  done  sech  afore  now.  Ye 
keep  yer  mouth  shet  an'  yer  tongue  'twixt  yer  teeth,  ef 
ye  knows  what 's  healthy  fur  ye." 

"  I  ain't  jokin',"  said  Alethea. 

"Ye  mind  what  I  say,"  declared  Jerry.  "I  ain't 
afeard  myself  o'  the  moonshiners  nor  the  revenuers, 
nare  one,  —  ain't  got  no  call  ter  be,  —  but  words  sech 
ez  ye  air  speakin'  air  powerful  ticklish  an'  techy  kind  o' 
talk.  Ye  better  tend  ter  the  cows  an'  sheep  an'  weavin' 
an'  sech,  an'  leave  the  men's  business  alone.  I  hev  never 
knowed,"  continued  Jerry,  a  trifle  acrimoniously,  "  a 
woman  git  ten  steps  away  from  home  but  what  she  acts 
ez  ef  she  bed  tuk  off  her  brains  an'  lef  'em  thai*  along 
of  her  e very-day  clothes." 

"  I  jes'  went  ter  git  the  lam'  out'n  a  hole,"  said  Alethea, 
in  no  wise  daunted,  and  ready  with  her  retort.  "  His 
leg  's  mendin',  though  he  hops  some  yit.  An'  I  war  in 
the  cow-pen  when  the  moonshiner  kem  an'  talked  ter 
me." 

"  Listen  at  ye,  a-settin'  talkin'  'bout  law-breakers," 
said  the  fastidious  Mrs.  Pur  vine,  who  had  abruptly 
waked.  "  I  ain't  kin  ter  none  o'  'em.  Naw,  sir,  an'  I 
would  n't  own  it  ef  I  war.  Mind  me  o'  yer  uncle  Pettin 
Guyther,  ez  war  always  talkin'  'bout  murder  an'  robbery : 
every  tale  he  told  they  killed  the  folks  a  diff'ent  way,  — 
spilled  thar  blood  somehows,  an'  cracked  thar  skulls  boda- 
ciously ;  an'  whenever  he  'd  git  hisself  gone  from  hyar  I 
useter  be  'feared  lawless  ones  would  kem  hyar  of  a  night 
ter  thieve  an'  kill,  knowin'  ez  I  hed  consider'ble  worldly 
goods.  The  Bible  say  riches  ain't  no  'count.  Mebbe  so, 
but  I  ain't  so  sure  'bout  that." 

Perhaps  it  was  her  clock  which  she  had  in  mind,  for 
—  without  any  monition  from  it,  however  —  she  added, 
"  Time  ter  go  ter  bed,  chill'n,  — time  ter  go  ter  bed." 

She  did  not  rise  from  her  chair  at  once.  She  admon- 
ished Jerry  to  "  kiver  "  the  fire  with  ashes,  and  watched 


136  JN   THE   CLOUDS. 

him  as  he  did  it.  Then  he  tramped  up  the  ladder  to  the 
roof -room,  noisily  enough  to  wake  the  dead,  perhaps,  but 
not  aunt  Dely's  boys. 

She  gave  a  long,  mournful  yawn  of  sleepiness  and 
fatigue,  and  stretched  her  arms  wearily  above  her  head. 
Then  with  sudden  cheerfulness  she  exclaimed,  u  Lethe, 
ye  hain't  never  hed  a  chance  ter  sleep  in  the  bedroom  I  ' 

She  spoke  as  if  there  were  but  one  on  the  face  of  the 
earth. 

"  Ye  hev  never  been  down  hyar  'thout  yer  elders  an' 
sech,  ez  ye  hev  hed  ter  show  respec'  ter,  an'  stan'  back 
fur,  —  yer  step-mam,  an'  Jacob  Jessup's  wife,  an'  sech ; 
but  ye  shell  sleep  in  the  bedroom  one  time,  sure,  instead 
o'  in  this  room,  ez  be  het  up  so  hot  with  cookin'  supper 
in  it." 

She  rose  bustlingly  to  stir  up  the  fire,  that  there  might 
be  light  enough  to  make  the  requisite  preparations.  Ale- 
thea's  heart  failed  her  when  she  thought  of  the  tiny  apart- 
ment partitioned  off  at  the  end  of  the  porch,  and  beheld 
her  aunt  lighting  a  little  tin  lamp  without  a  chimney  at 
the  fire.  The  mountain  girl,  with  all  the  conservatism  of 
her  class,  possessed  the  strength  of  prejudice  against  in- 
novation which  usually  appertains  to  age.  The  charac- 
teristic of  years  seemed  reversed  as  she  looked  on  with 
reluctance,  and  the  old  woman  flustered  about,  full  of  her 
experimental  glories  and  her  eager  relish  of  a  new  fash- 
ion. "  Ye  kem  along,  child  !  "  she  exclaimed,  her  moon 
face  wreathed  with  a  toothless  smile  and  the  redolent 
emanations  of  the  smoking  and  sputtering  lamp.  It  was 
placed 'on  a  shelf  in  the  little  room,  and  as  Alethea  but- 
toned the  door  it  gave  out  less  light  than  a  suffocating 
odor.  It  served,  however,  to  reveal  the  timbers  that 
formed  the  sides  of  the  room,  for  it  was  built  after  the 
treasures^  of  the  post-office  had  been  exhausted  in  the 
decoration  of  the  main  house.  Upon  them  hung  an  array 
of  Mrs.  Purvine's  dresses,  suspended  by  the  neck,  and 
suggesting  the  uncheerful  idea  of  a  row  of  executed 
women.  The  bed  was  high,  huge  with  feathers  and 
heaped  with  quilts.  There  were  no  means  of  ventila- 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  137 

tion,  unless  sundry  cracks  incident  to  mountain  archi- 
tecture might  be  relied  upon.  Alethea  made  haste  to 
extinguish  the  lamp.  When  she  had  climbed  the  alti- 
tudes of  the  feather  bed  she  could  not  sleep.  The  roof- 
room  at  home,  with  its  windows  and  its  sweeps  of  high 
air,  was  not  so  fine,  it  might  be,  but  as  she  smothered  by 
slow  degrees  she  thought  poorly  of  fashion.  Her  brain 
was  hot  with  the  anxious,  strenuous  thoughts  that  seethed 
through  it.  She  was  much  less  cheerful  as  the  hours 
wore  on.  The  recollections  of  the  sad  day  bore  heavily 
upon  her  spirit.  Over  and  again  Mink's  cruel  words, 
the  ridicule  to  which  the  lawyer  had  subjected  her  in  her 
own  estimation,  the  affront  to  her  dignity,  —  she  had  no 
such  fine  name  for  it,  she  could  only  feel,  —  came  back 
to  her,  and  she  could  but  marvel  that  the  evening  had 
passed  so  placidly ;  she  wondered  that  she  even  lived,  so 
acute  were  the  pangs  of  her  wounded  pride.  She  had 
an  ineffable  repugnance  to  the  idea  of  ever  seeing  Har- 
shaw  again ;  for  herself  alone,  for  her  life,  she  felt,  she 
would  have  made  no  further  effort.  "  I  '11  do  it  fur 
Reuben,  though,"  she  said.  The  thought  of  him,  too, 
was  very  bitter.  Her  wakeful  eyes  were  hot,  but  they 
harbored  no  tears.  Once  she  slipped  down  from  the  bed 
and  unbuttoned  the  door,  hoping  to  sleep  with  the  influx 
of  air.  It  came  in  fresh,  sweet,  full  of  the  sense  of  dew. 
The  night  was  not  black ;  only  a  subdued  gray  shadow 
lay  over  all  the  land :  how  its  passive,  neutral  aspect  ex- 
pressed'the  idea  of  rest !  Looking  out  from  the  cavern- 
ous overhanging  portal  of  the  little  porch,  she  could  see 
the  Great  Smoky,  darkly  rising  above  the  cove.  She 
heard  the  stir  of  a  bird  roosting  in  an  althea  bush  by  the 
gate,  and  then  a  scuttling  noise  under  the  house.  She 
had  moved  very  softly,  but  the  vigilant  Towser  bounded 
upon  the  porch.  He  knew  her  —  for  she  spoke  to  him 
instantly  —  as  well  as  he  knew  his  name,  but  for  some 
unexplained  affectation  of  his  nature  he  would  not  recog- 
nize her,  and  sat  before  her  door  and  barked  at  her  with 
a  vehemence  that  made  the  roof  ring,  the  sound  rever- 
berating from  the  mountains  as  if  a  troop  of  wolves  were 


138  7.V  THE   CLOUDS. 

howling  in  the  melancholy  woods.  Twice  he  tired  of 
this  pastime,  and  withdrew  under  the  house,  coming  out 
once  more  to  renew  it.  She  shut  the  door,  finally,  and 
again  and  again  he  threw  himself  against  it,  at  last  lying 
down  before  it  and  growling  at  intervals.  She  fell  asleep 
after  a  time,  through  sheer  fatigue,  regardless  of  the 
lack  of  air  in  the  little  dungeon  ;  waking  heavy-eyed  and 
fagged  in  the  morning,  able  to  acquiesce  only  faint- 
heartedly when  Mrs.  Purvine  triumphantly  saluted  her : 
"  Waal,  Lethe,  now  nobody  kin  never  say  ez  ye  ain't 
slep'  in  the  bedroom." 

All  day  she  felt  the  effects  of  her  vigil.  She  thought 
it  was  this  which  had  touched  her  courage.  She  stood 
still  with  a  quaking  at  her  heart,  when,  climbing  the 
Great  Smoky,  she  reached  the  forks  in  the  road  where 
she  should  turn  off  to  go  to  Sam  Marvin's  house.  There 
was  no  view  of  the  valley.  The  woods  were  immeasur- 
able about  her,  all  splendid  with  the  pomp  and  state  of 
autumn.  Those  great  trees,  ablaze  with  color,  —  the  flam- 
ing yellow  of  the  hickory,  the  rich,  dull  purple  of  the 
sweet-gum,  the  crimson  of  the  oaks,  —  reached  up  in  end- 
less arches  above  her  head,  all  boldly  painted  against 
the  blue  sky.  An  incredible  brilliancy  of  effect  was  af- 
forded by  the  long  vistas,  free  of  undergrowth,  and  car- 
peted with  the  poly-tinted  leaves.  Among  the  boughs 
often  the  full  purple  clusters  of  the  muscadines  hung,  the 
vines  climbing  to  the  tops  of  the  trees,  and  then  trailing 
over  to  the  ground.  As  she  stood  she  heard  a  creaking 
and  straining  of  the  strong  cables,  —  a  fox  in  their  midst 
as  they  lay  tangled  upon  the  earth.  She  noted,  too,  the 
translucent  red  globes  of  the  persimmon  hanging  upon 
trees  denuded  of  all  but  a  few  yellow  leaves. 

She  sat  down  on  a  log  at  the  forks  of  the  road,  feeling 
greatly  perturbed  and  anxious.  To  do  what  she  proposed 
to  do  was  to  take  her  life  in  her  hands.  Not  her  step- 
mother alone,  but  Jacob  Jessup,  had  warned  her,  and 
Jerry  Price  had  repeated  what  they  had  said,  almost  in 
their  very  words.  But  they  had  only  sought  to  curb 
her  foolish  tongue.  They  had  never  dreamed  of  the 


IN  THE    CLOUDS.  139 

reckless  temerity  of  going  into  the  moonshiner's  den  to 
defy  him,  proclaim  herself  the  informer,  and  warn  him 
to  save  himself.  He  had  already  threatened  her  ;  she 
remembered  his  stern,  vehement  face  in  the  closing  dusk. 
She  wondered  that  her  mind  should  balk  from  the  decis- 
ion so  imperatively  urged  upon  it.  She  seemed,  as  it 
were,  to  catch  herself  in  lapses  of  attention.  Often  she 
looked,  first  at  one,  then  at  the  other,  of  the  roads, — 
neither  visible  for  more  than  a  few  yards  up  the  steep 
ascent,  —  as  if  she  expected  some  diversion,  some  extra- 
neous aid,  in  her  dilemma,  something  to  happen  to  de- 
cide it  for  her. 

What,  she  said  to  herself,  if  never  again  she  should 
behold  this  place  ?  What  if,  in  taking  choice  of  the 
forks  of  the  road,  she  should  take  a  path  she  might  never 
tread  again? 

And  then  she  wondered  that  she  should  notice  that  the 
log  on  which  she  sat  was  a  "  lick  log,"  should  speculate 
whether  the  cattle  often  came  here  for  salt,  should  look 
idly  into  the  cleft  within  it  to  see  if  perchance  there 
were  still  salt  there. 

It  would  be  safer,  it  might  be  better  for  all,  to  give 
her  testimony  if  it  should  be  called  for,  and  leave  Sam 
Marvin  to  the  law.  "  I  'm  fairly  feared  o'  him,  enny- 
ways.  I  'm  feared  ter  go  thar  an'  let  him  know  that 
he  '11  git  fund  out,  mebbe,  fur  I  '11  tell  on  him  ef  I  'm 
summonsed  ez  a  witness.  My  step-mother  1s  always  sayin* 
I  'm  a  meddler,  an'  mebbe  I  be." 

She  listened  to  the  sound  of  an  outgushing  roadside 
spring.  She  looked  up  at  the  new  moon,  which  seemed 
to  follow  the  lure  of  the  wind  beckoning  in  the  trees. 
They  shook  their  splendid  plumes  together  like  an  as- 
semblage of  bowing  courtiers,  gayly  bedight. 

She  remembered  the  "  houseful,"  the  pinching  pov- 
erty, the  prison,  the  destruction  of  the  still.  She  rose 
reluctantly  and  turned  to  the  left.  Her  eyes  were  bright 
her  cheeks  were  flushed ;  her  red  lips  parted.  She 
listened  intently  from  time  to  time  :  not  a  sound  but 
her  own  slow,  light  footfall.  She  had  thought  to  hear 


140  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

the  dogs  barking,  for  the  place  was  now  near  at  hand. 
When  she  saw  a  rail  -  fence  terminating  the  vista  her 
heart  gave  a  great  bound ;  she  paused,  looking  at  it  with 
dilated  eyes.  Then  she  went  on,  up  and  up,  till  the 
house  came  in  view,  —  a  forlorn  little  cabin,  with  a  clay 
and  stick  chimney,  smokeless  !  She  stared  at  it  amazed. 
There  was  no  creature  in  the  hog-pen,  which  was  large 
for  the  pretensions  of  the  place,  —  the  distillery  refuse 
explained  its  phenomenal  size,  perhaps  ;  the  door  of  the 
house  swung  loose  in  the  wind.  There  were  several  slats 
nailed  across  the  entrance  low  down,  evidently  intended  to 
keep  certain  vagrant  juveniles  from  falling  out  of  the  door. 
No  need  for  this  now.  The  place  was  deserted.  Alethea 
walked  up  to  the  fence,  —  the  bars  lay  upon  the  ground, 
—  and  stepped  over  the  slats  into  the  empty  room.  The 
ashes  had  been  dead  for  days  in  the  deep  chimney-place  ; 
a  few  rags  in  a  corner  fluttered  in  the  drafts  from 
crannies  ;  the  whole  place  had  that  indescribable  mourn- 
fulness  of  a  deserted  human  habitation  that  had  so  pa- 
thetically appealed  to  her  in  the  little  house  at  Boke's 
Spring.  Here  it  pierced  her  heart.  It  was  from  fear 
of  her  that  they  had  fled,  —  and  whither  ?  A  poor  home 
at  best,  where  could  they  find  another  ?  She  need  not 
have  quaked,  she  said  to  herself ;  they  had  not  sought  to 
still  her  tongue,  lest  it  should  wag  against  them.  They 
had  uprooted  their  home,  and  had  withdrawn  themselves 
alike  from  the  informer  and  the  law  that  threatened 
them.  The  tears  sprang  into  her  eyes.  She  deprecated 
their  bitter  feeling,  their  saddened  lives,  their  deserted 
hearthstone.  And  yet  it  was  all  wrong  that  they  should 
distill  the  brush  whiskey,  and  could  she  say  she  was  to 
blame  ? 

A  faint  scratching  sound  struck  her  attention.  It 
came  from  behind  the  closed  door  of  the  shed-room. 
She  stood  listening  for  a  moment,  unable  to  account  for 
it.  Then  she  went  forward  and  unlatched  the  door. 

A  starved  cat,  emaciated  and  forlorn  to  the  last  de- 
gree, forgotten  in  the  removal,  shut  by  some  accident 
into  the  room,  crept  quivering  out.  It  went  through  the 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  141 

dumb  show  of  mewing ;  it  could  not  walk ;  its  bones  al- 
most pierced  its  skin.  Its  plight  served  to  approximate 
the  date  of  the  flitting.  It  had  been  there  for  days, 
weeks  perhaps. 

She  picked  up  the  creature,  and  carried  it  home  in  her 
arms. 


X. 

THE  little  brick  court-house  in  Shaftesville  had  stood 
for  half  a  century  in  the  centre  of  the  village  square,  as 
impassive  as  an  oracle  to  the  decrees  which  issued  from 
it.  Even  time  seemed  able  to  make  but  scant  impres- 
sion upon  it.  True,  the  changes  of  the  day  might  regis- 
ter on  its  windows,  flaring  with  fictitious  fires  when  the 
sun  was  in  the  west,  or  reflecting  the  moonlight  with  pal- 
lid glimmers,  as  if  some  white-faced  spectre  had  peered 
out  into  the  midnight  through  the  dusty  pane.  Mosses 
clung  to  its  walls ;  generations  of  swallows  nested  in  its 
chimneys,  soaring  up  from  them  now  and  then,  bevies  of 
black  dots,  as  if  the  records  below  had  spewed  out  a 
surplusage  of  punctuation  marks  and  blots ;  decay  had 
touched  a  window-sill  here  and  there.  But  it  was  still 
called  the  "  new  court-house,"  in  contradistinction  to  the 
primitive  log  building  that  it  had  replaced ;  and  despite 
some  inward  monitions  of  its  age  once  in  a  while,  its 
long  experience  of  various  phases  of  life,  its  knowledge 
of  the  coming  and  going  of  many  men  who  would  come 
and  go  no  more,  it  was  enabled  to  maintain  an  air  of 
jaunty  unconsciousness,  as  it  was  still  the  handsomest  edi- 
fice in  Shaftesville  and  of  a  somewhat  imposing  archi- 
tectural pretension.  It  had  beheld  many  a  "  State's 
day  "  dawn  like  this,  with  fitful  gusts  of  wind  and  rain, 
with  a  frenzied  surging  of  the  boughs  of  the  hickory- 
trees  about  it  as  if  some  sylvan  grief  beset  them,  with  a 
continual  shifting  of  the  mists  that  veiled  the  mountains 
and  hung  above  the  roofs  of  the  straggling  little  town. 

The  few  stores,  all  of  which  faced  the  square,  were 
early  full  of  customers  clad  in  jeans,  with  heavy  cowhide 
boots  deeply  bemired  by  the  red  clay  mud  of  the  streets, 
and  with  gruff  faces  that  expressed  surly  disapproval  of 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  143 

the  frills  and  frippery  of  civilization  as  exhibited  in 
Shaftesville.  Canvas-covered  wagons,  laden  with  prod- 
uce and  drawn  by  oxen,  stood  before  the  doors,  and 
among  the  piles  of  corn  and  bags  of  apples  and  chest- 
nuts children's  wide-eyed,  grave  faces  looked  out  cau- 
tiously from  behind  the  flaps  at  the  inexplicable  "  town 
ways."  In  the  intervals  of  the  down-pour  there  was 
much  stir  in  the  streets.  Men  with  long-skirted  coats 
and  broad  hats  and  stern,  grizzled  faces  rode  about  on 
gaunt  mountain  horses.  Now  and  then  one  would  be  ac- 
companied by  an  elderly  woman  in  homespun  dress,  a 
shawl  and  sun-bonnet,  wearing  a  settled  look  of  sour  dis- 
affection, and  chirruping  a  sharp  warning  rather  than 
encouragement  to  her  stumbling,  antiquated  gray  mare. 
There  were  many  horses  hitched  to  the  palings  of  the 
court-house  fence,  and  numbers  of  men  lounged  about 
the  yard,  all  crowding  up  the  steps  as  the  tuneless  clangor 
of  the  bell  smote  the  air.  Around  the  door  of  the  jail 
boys  and  rowdyish  young  men  assembled,  waiting  with 
an  indomitable  patience,  despite  the  quick,  sharp  show- 
ers, to  see  the  prisoner  led  out. 

The  people  of  Shaftesville  regarded  the  swarm  of  vis- 
itors as  somewhat  an  encroachment  upon  their  vested 
rights.  "  Leave  anybody  in  the  mountains  ?  "  was  a  fre- 
quent raillery. 

"  Ye  town  folks  jes'  'lowed  ye  'd  hev  all  the  fun  ter 
yerselves  o'  seein'  Mink  Lorey  tried,  ye  grudgin'  half- 
livers,"  the  mountaineers  would  retort ;  "  but  from  what 
I  kin  see,  I  reckon  ye  air  sorter  mistook  this  time, 
sure." 

And  indeed  the  court-room  was  crowded  as  it  had  sel- 
dom been  in  the  fifty  years  that  justice  had  been  meted 
out  here.  In  the  space  without  the  bar  the  benches 
groaned  and  creaked  beneath  the  weight  of  those  who 
had  taken  the  precaution  to  secure  seats  in  advance,  and 
had  occupied  them  in  dreary  waiting  since  early  in  the 
morning.  The  forethought  of  one  coterie  had  come  to 
naught,  for  the  bench  succumbed  beneath  twenty  stal- 
wart mountaineers  ;  its  feeble  supports  bent,  and  as  the 
party  collapsed  in  a  wild  mingling  of  legs  and  arms. 


144  /jv  THE   CLOUDS. 

waving  in  frantic  efforts  to  recover  equilibrium,  Shaftes- 
ville  was  "  mighty  nigh  tickled  ter  death,"  for  the  first 
time  that  day.  As  the  sprawling  young  fellows  sheep- 
ishly gathered  themselves  together,  a  burst  of  jeering 
laughter  filled  the  room,  only  gradually  subdued  by  the 
sheriff's  "  Silence  in  court !  " 

The  attorney-general  was  already  piling  his  books  and 
papers  on  the  table,  consulting  his  notes  and  absorbed  in 
his  preparations.  He  was  a  man  of  fifty,  perhaps,  with 
a  polished  bald  head  that  might  have  been  of  interest  to 
a  phrenologist  (for  it  had  sundry  marked  protuberances), 
blunt,  strong  features,  a  heavy  lower  jaw,  an  expression 
of  insistent  common  sense,  and  a  deep  bass  voice.  He 
was  sonorously  clearing  his  throat  just  now,  and  was 
wiping  from  his  thick,  short,  grizzled  mustache  drops  of 
some  fluid  that  gave  a  pervasive  unequivocal  odor  to  his 
breath.  It  had  only  rejoiced  his  stomach,  however,  and 
did  not  affect  the  keen  acumen  for  which  he  was  famous, 
and  he  was  settling  to  his  work  with  an  evident  inten- 
tion of  giving  the  defense  all  they  would  be  able  to 
wrestle  with.  The  old  miller,  in  his  rags  and  patches, 
sat  beside  him  as  prosecutor.  His  face  wore  a  strange 
meekness.  Now  and  then  he  lifted  his  bleared  eyes  with 
an  intent  look,  as  if  hearing  some  unworded  counsels ; 
then  shook  his  head  and  bowed  it,  with  its  long  white 
locks,  upon  his  hands  clasped  on  his  stick.  There  were 
many  glances  directed  toward  him,  half  in  commisera- 
tion, half  in  curiosity ;  but  these  sentiments  were  bated 
somewhat  by  familiarity,  for  there  was  hardly  a  man  in 
Cherokee  County  who  had  not  visited  the  ruins  of  the 
mill  and  heard  much  gossip  about  the  old  man's  unchar- 
acteristic humility  and  submissive  grief. 

A  stronger  element  of  interest  was  added  to  the  im- 
pending trial  by  the  circumstance  that  it  was  a  stranger 
on  the  bench.  Comparatively  few  of  the  assemblage  had 
been  in  attendance  the  preceding  days,  during  the  trial 
of  the  civil  cases,  and  in  the  preliminary  moments, 
throughout  the  opening  of  the  court,  the  reading  of  the 


IN   THE    CLOUDS.  145 

minutes,  the  calling  of  the  roll,  the  miscellaneous  mo- 
tions, until  the  criminal  docket  was  taken  up  and  the 
case  called,  the  judge  sustained  the  fixed  gaze  of  one 
half  the  county. 

He  did  not  embody  the  sleek,  successful  promise  of  his 
reputation.  He  had  the  look  of  a  man  who  has  fought 
hard  for  all  that  he  has  won,  and,  unsatisfied,  is  ready  to 
fight  again.  It  was  a  most  unappeased,  belligerent  spirit 
expressed  in  his  eyes.  They  were  of  a  dark  gray,  and 
deeply  set.  He  had  straight  black  hair,  cut  short  about 
his  head.  His  face  wore  a  repressed  impatience ;  sharp 
lines  were  drawn  about  it,  making  him  seem  somewhat 
older  than  his  age,  which  was  thirty-five  or  six ;  his  nose 
had  a  fine,  thin  nostril ;  his  chin  was  round  and  heavy. 
He  wore  a  long  mustache ;  now  and  then  he  gnawed  at 
the  end  of  it.  He  sat  stiffly  erect  before  the  desk,  his 
elbow  upon  it,  his  chin  resting  in  his  hand.  His  blue 
flannel  suit  hung  negligently  on  his  tall,  slender  figure, 
and  they  were  lean,  long  fingers  that  held  his  chin. 

He  was  looking  about  with  a  restless  eye.  The  great 
round  stove  in  the  room  was  red  hot.  Snow  had  been 
seen  on  the  summits  of  the  distant  Smoky,  and  was 
not  this  sure  indication  that  winter  was  at  hand  ?  The 
sheriff  was  a  man  of  rigid  rule  and  precedent,  and  the 
fire  had  been  built  accordingly. 

The  judge  spoke  suddenly.  He  had  a  singularly  low, 
inexpressive  voice,  a  falling  inflection,  and  a  deliberate, 
measured  manner.  "  Mr.  Sheriff,"  he  said,  "  hoist  that 
window,  will  you  ?  " 

All  the  windows  were  occupied  by  men  and  boys, 
some  of  them  standing  that  they  might  obtain  a  better 
view  of  the  prisoner  when  he  should  be  led  in.  From 
the  sill  of  the  window  indicated  they  descended  with 
clumsy  hops  and  thumps  upon  the  floor,  as  "they  made 
way  for  the  sheriff  to  admit  the  air.  There  was  a  half- 
suppressed  titter  from  those  more  fortunately  placed,  as 
the  dispossessed  and  discomfited  spectators  crowded  to- 
gether against  the  wall.  The  judge  glanced  about  with 
displeasure  in  his  eyes. 


146  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  I  '11  have  you  to  understand,"  he  said  in  his  unim- 
passioned  drawl,  "  that  a  trial  before  a  court  of  justice 
is  not  a  circus  or  a  show.  Arid  if  there  's  not  more 
quiet  in  this  court-room,  I  '11  send  one  half  of  this 
crowd  to  jail." 

There  was  quiet  at  once.  The  gaze  fixed  upon  him 
was  suddenly  an  unfriendly  look.  To  be  sure,  he  was 
not  a  visiting  clergyman,  but  one  expects  a  certain 
decree  of  urbanity  from  the  stranger  within  one's  gates, 
however  lofty  his  mission  and  imperious  his  authority. 
Their  own  judicial  magnate,  Judge  Aveiill,  was  a  very 
lenient  man,  fat,  and  bald,  and  jolly.  The  frequenters 
of  the  place  could  but  be  impressed  with  the  contrast. 
If  Judge  Averill  found  the  room  or  the  weather  too 
warm,  he  took  off  his  coat,  and  tried  his  cases  clothed 
in  his  right  mind,  and  in  little  else.  Everybody  in  the 
county  was  familiar  with  the  back  of  his  vest,  which  had 
a  triangular  wedge  of  cloth  let  into  it,  for  the  judge  had 
become  more  expansive  than  when  the  vest  was  a  fit. 
He  was  a  sound  lawyer  and  an  excellent  man,  and  his 
decisions  suffered  no  disparagement  from  his  shirt 
sleeves. 

The  pause  of  expectation  was  prolonged.  The  stove 
was  cracking,  as  it  abruptly  cooled,  as  if  with  inarticu- 
late protest  against  these  summary  proceedings.  The 
autumnal  breeze  came  in  dank  and  chill  at  the  window. 
The  spectators  moved  restlessly  in  their  places.  There 
was  a  sharp  contrast  between  the  townspeople — espe- 
cially the  lawyers  within  the  bar,  in  their  dapper  store 
clothes,  and  with  that  alert  expression  habitual  with 
men  who  think  for  a  living  —  and  the  stolid,  rumi- 
native mountain  folks,  with  unshorn  beards  and  unkempt 
heads,  habited  in  jeans,  and  lounging  about  in  slouching 
postures. 

There  was  a  sudden  approach  of  feet  in  the  hall,  — 
the  feet,  to  judge  by  their  nimble  irresponsibility,  of 
scuttling  small  boys.  A  thrill  of  excitement  ran  through 
the  crowd  as  a  heavier  tramp  resounded.  The  sheriff 
in  charge  of  the  prisoner,  who  was  accompanied  by  his 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  147 

counsel,  came  into  the  room  so  swiftly  as  almost  to  im- 
pair the  effect  of  the  entry,  and  Mink  and  his  lawyer 
sat  down  within  the  bar. 

Oddly  enough,  Mink's  keen,  bright  eyes  were  elate  as 
he  glanced  about.  He  looked  so  light,  so  alert,  so  elas- 
tically  ready  to  boun;l  away,  that  those  cautious  souls, 
who  'like  to  be  on  the  safe  side,  felt  that  it  would  con- 
duce to  the  public  weal  if  he  were  still  ironed.  He  was 
visibly  excited,  too  ;  his  expression  conveyed  the  idea  of 
an  inadequate  recognition  of  everything  that  he  saw, 
but  he  stood  up  and  pleaded  "  Not  guilty  "  in  a  steady, 
strong  voice,  and  with  his  old  offhand,  debonair,  manly 
manner.  He  held  his  hat  in  his  hand,  —  a  long  time, 
pom*  fellow,  since  he  had  had  need  of  it ;  his  clothes 
still  bore  the  rents  of  the  struggle  when  he  was  cap- 
tured ;  his  fine  hair  curled  down  upon  his  brown  jeans 
coat  collar  ;  and  his  face  had  an  unwonted  delicacy  of 
effect,  the  refined  result  of  the  prosaic  '•  jail-bleach." 
He  seemed  most  thoroughly  alive.  In  contrast  any  other 
personality  suggested  torpor.  His  strong  peculiarities 
had  a  certain  obliterative  effect  upon  others  ;  he  was 
the  climax  of  interest  in  the  room.  The  judge  looked 
at  him  with  marked  attention. 

Harshaw  had  flung  himself  back  in  his  chair,  that 
quaked  in  every  fibre  beneath  him.  He  mopped  his 
flushed  face  with  his  handkerchief,  sighed  with  fatness 
and  anxiety,  and  pulled  down  his  vest  and  the  stubs  of 
his  shirt  sleeves  about  his  thick  wrists,  for  he  wore  no 
cuffs.  He  leaned  forward  from  time  to  time,  and  whis- 
pered with  eager  perturbation  to  the  prisoner,  who 
seemod  to  listen  with  a  sort  of  flout  of  indifference  and 
confident  protest.  Mink's  conduct  was  so  unexpected, 
so  remarkable,  that  it  attracted  general  attention.  The 
members  of  the  bar  had  taken  note  of  it,  and  presently 
two  or  three  commented  in  whispers  on  Harshaw 's  pre- 
occupation. For  he,  a  stickler  at  trifles,  a  man  that 
fought  on  principle  every  point  of  his  case,  had  allowed 
something  to  slip  his  notice.  The  names  of  the  jury 
were  about  to  be  drawn.  The  sheriff,  seeking,  according 


148  JN  THE   CLOUDS. 

to  the  law,  that  exponent  of  guilelessness,  "  a  child  under 
ten  years  of  age,"  had  encountered  one  in  the  hall,  and 
came  back  into  the  room,  beckoning  with  many  an  allur- 
ing demonstration  some  small  person,  invisible  because 
of  the  density  of  the  crowd.  It  once  more  showed  a 
disposition  to  titter,  for  the  sheriff,  a  bulky,  ungainly 
man,  was  wreathing  his  hard  features  into  sweetly  in- 
sistent smiles,  when  there  appeared,  in  the  open  space 
near  the  judge's  desk,  a  little  maiden,  following  him, 
beginning  to  smile,  too,  under  so  many  soft  attentions. 
Her  blowzy,  uncovered  hair  was  of  a  sunny  hue  ;  her 
red  lips  parted  to  show  her  snaggled  little  teeth ;  her 
eyes,  so  fresh,  so  blue,  were  fastened  upon  him  with  an 
expression  of  blandest  favor ;  her  plump  little  body  was 
arrayed  in  a  blue-checked  cotton  frock ;  and  despite  the 
season  her  feet  were  bare.  It  was  perhaps  this  special 
mark  of  poverty  that  attracted  the  attention  of  one  of 
the  lawyers.  He  was  a  man  of  extraordinary  memory, 
a  politician,  and  well  acquainted  in  the  coves.  He 
looked  hard  at  the  little  girl.  Then  he  whispered  to  a 
crony  that  she  was  the  miller's  granddaughter.  For  it 
was  "  Sister  Eudory."  They  watched  Harshaw  with 
idle  interest,  expecting  him  to  identify  the  small  kins- 
woman of  the  drowned  boy,  and  to  derive  from  the  fact 
some  fine-spun  theory  of  incompetency.  He  did  not 
recognize  her,  however,  —  perhaps  he  had  never  before 
seen  her ;  he  only  gave  her  a  casual  glance,  and  then 
turned  his  eyes  upon  the  jury  list  in  his  hands. 

The  scrolls  bearing  the  names  of  the  proposed  jurors 
were  placed  in  a  hat,  and  the  sheriff,  bowing  his  long 
back,  extended  it  to  "  Sister  Eudory." 

She  held  her  pretty  head  askew,  looked  up,  smiling 
with  childish  coquetry  at  the  judge,  put  in  her  dimpled 
hand  with  a  delicate  tentative  gesture,  took  out  a  scroll, 
and  under  the  sheriff's  directions,  handed  it  to  the  clerk 
with  an  elaborate  air  of  bestowal.  He  looked  at  it,  and 
read  the  name  aloud. 

Her  charming  infantile  presence,  as  she  stood  by  the 
judge's  desk  among  the  grave,  bearded  men,  drawing 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  149 

the  jury  with  her  dimpled  hands,  won  upon  the  crowd. 
There  were  laughing  glances  interchanged,  and  no  dis- 
senting opinion  as  to  the  prettiness  and  "  peartness  "  of 
"  Sister  Eudory."  She  was  evidently  under  the  impres- 
sion that  she  was  performing  some  great  public  feat,  as 
she  again  thrust  in  her  hand,  caught  up  another  scroll, 
and  smiled  radiantly  into  the  face  of  the  judge,  who  was 
visibly  embarrassed  by  the  blandishments  of  the  small 
coquette.  He  hardly  knew  how  to  return  her  gaze,  and 
instead  he  glanced  casually  out  of  the  window  close  by. 

The  defense  frequently  availed  themselves  of  their 
right  of  peremptory  challenge.  This  was  a  matter  of 
preconcerted  detail  with  the  jury  list  before  them. 
Whenever  it  was  possible  they  challenged  "  for  cause  " 
until  the  venire  was  exhausted.  Then  jurors  were  sum- 
moned from  the  by-standers.  It  was  not  exactly  the  en- 
tertainment for  which  the  crowd  had  been  waiting,  but 
they  found  a  certain  interest  in  seeing  Mink,  no  longer 
indifferent,  lean  forward,  and  with  acrimonious  eager- 
ness whisper  into  the  counsel's  ear  presumable  defama- 
tions of  the  juror,  who  looked  on  helplessly  and  with  an 
avidity  of  curiosity  as  to  whart;  was  about  to  be  publicly 
urged  against  him.  Over  and  again  the  sheriff  made  in- 
cursions into  the  streets,  summoning  talesmen  wherever 
he  could  lay  his  hands  on  suitable  persons.  Men  of  un- 
doubted integrity  and  sobriety  were  scarce  at  the  mo- 
ment, for  the  good  citizens  of  Shaftesville,  averse  to  the 
duty,  and  hearing  that  he  was  abroad  on  this  mission, 
disappeared  as  if  the  earth  had  swallowed  them.  Plung- 
ing into  the  stores,  the  baffled  official  would  encounter 
only  the  grins  of  the  few  callow  clerks  —  proprietor  and 
customers  having  alike  fled.  Once  he  pursued  the  fly- 
ing coat-tails  and  the  soles  of  the  nimble  feet  of  one  of 
the  solid  men  of  the  town  around  a  corner,  never  com- 
ing nearer.  It  was  a  time-honored  custom  to  respond 
thus  to  one's  country's  call,  and  engendered  no  bitter- 
ness in  the  sheriff's  breast.  Perhaps  he  considered  this 
saltatory  exercise  one  of  the  official  duties  to  which  he 
had  been  dedicated. 


150  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

The  difficulty  of  securing  a  jury  was  unexampled  in 
the  annals  of  the  county.  Many,  otherwise  eligible,  con- 
fessed to  a  prejudice  against  Mink,  and  had  formed  and 
freely  expressed  an  opinion  as  to  his  guilt.  One  old 
codger  from  some  sequestered  cove  of  the  mountains, 
never  before  having  visited  Shaftesville,  and  desirous  of 
adding  to  the  strange  tales  of  his  travels  the  unique  ex- 
perience of  serving  on  the  jury,  dashed  his  own  hopes 
when  questioned  as  usual,  by  replying  glibly  in  the  affir- 
mative. He  said,  too,  that  the  "  outdacious  rascality  of 
the  prisoner  showed  in  his  face,  an'  ef  they  locked  him 
up  for  life  he  *d  be  a  warnin'  ter  the  other  mischievious 
young  minks,  fur  the  kentry  war  a-roamin'  with  'em." 
His  look  of  blank  amazement  and  discomfiture  when 
told  to  "  stand  aside  "  elicited  once  more  the  ready  tit- 
ter of  the  crowd  and  the  sheriff's  formula,  "  Silence  in 
court !  " 

As  such  admissions  were  made,  Mink  sat,  his  head 
thrust  forward,  his  bright,  intent  eyes  flashing  indig- 
nantly, a  fluctuating  flush  on  his  pallid  cheek,  his  whole 
lithe,  motionless  figure  seeming  so  alert  that  it  would 
scarcely  have  astonished  the  community  if  he  had  sprung 
upon  the  holder  of  these  aggressive  views  of  his  guilt. 
His  lawyer  sneered,  and  now  and  then  exchanged  a 
glance  of  scornful  comment  with  him,  —  for  Harshaw 
had  recovered  his  equanimity  in  the  exercise  of  that 
most  characteristic  quality,  his  pugnacity,  during  his 
wrangles  with  the  attorney  for  the  State  in  challenging 
the  jurymen. 

The  crude  gray  light  of  the  autumn  day  waned.  A 
dim  shadow  fell  over  the  assemblage.  Gusts  of  wind 
dashed  the  rain  against  the  grimy  panes,  the  drops  trick- 
ling down  in  long,  irregular  lines;  the  yellow  hickory 
leaves  went  whirling  by,  sometimes  dropping  upon  the 
window-ledges,  and  away  again  on  the  restless  blast. 
The  mists  pressed  against  the  glass,  then  quivered  and 
disappeared,  and  came  once  more.  Occasionally  a  great 
hollow  voice  sounded  from  the  empty  upper  chambers  of 
the  building  and  through  the  long  halls ;  the  doors  left 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  151 

ajar  slammed  now  and  then,  and  the  sashes  rattled  as 
the  wind  rose  higher. 

It  was  not  more  cheerful  when  the  lamps  were  lighted, 
for  the  court  did  not  adjourn  at  the  usual  hour.  A 
strong  smell  of  coal  oil  and  of  ill-trimmed  wicks  per- 
vaded the  air ;  a  bated  suffusion  of  yellow  radiance  em- 
anated from  them  into  the  brown  dimness  of  the  great 
room.  The  illumined  faces  were  dull  with  fatigue  and 
glistening  with  perspiration,  for  the  stove  was  once  again 
red-hot,  —  an  old  colored  man,  with  a  tropical  idea  of 
comfort,  appearing  at  close  intervals  with  an  armful  of 
wood.  Old  Griff's  long  white  hair  gleamed  among  the 
darker  heads  within  the  bar.  He  had  fallen  asleep,  his 
forehead  bowed  on  his  hands,  his  hands  clasped  on  his 
stick.  Strange  shadows  seemed  to  be  attending  court. 
Grotesque  distortions  of  humanity  walked  the  walls,  and 
lurked  among  the  assemblage,  and  haunted  the  open 
door,  and  looked  over  the  shoulder  of  the  judge. 

It  began  to  be  very  apparent  to  the  spectators,  the 
bar,  the  prisoner,  the  attorney-general,  and  the  sheriff, 
that  Judge  Gwinnan  had  the  fixed  purpose  of  sitting 
there  without  adjournment  until  the  requisite  compe- 
tent dozen  jurors  should  be  secured.  It  was  already 
late,  long  past  the  usual  hour  for  supper,  and  although 
the  lawyers  and  the  crowd,  who  could  withdraw  and 
refresh  themselves  as  they  wished,  might  approve  of  this 
ascetic  determination  neither  to  eat  nor  to  sleep  until 
the  jury  was  achieved,  the  sheriff,  his  deputy  absent, 
felt  it  a  hardship.  He  was  a  bulky  fellow,  accustomed 
to  locomotion  only  on  horseback.  He  had  taken  much 
exercise  to-day  on  foot,  a  sort  of  official  Diogenes,  — 
searching  for  a  mythical  unattained  man  of  an  exigent 
mental  and  moral  pattern,  —  with  not  even  a  tub  as  a 
haven  to  which  he  might  have  the  poor  privilege  of  re- 
tiring. When  he  next  darted  out  with  a  sort  of  unwieldy 
agility  into  the  hall,  which  was  lighted  by  a  swinging 
lamp,  the  wick  turned  too  high  and  the  chimney  emit- 
ting flames  tipped  with  smoke,  he  was  not  easily  to  be 
withstood.  He  seized  upon  a  man  leaning  idly  against 


152  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

the  wall,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  whom  he  had  not  seen 
before  to-day.  "Ye  air  the  very  feller  I'm  a-lookin' 
fur !  "  he  cried,  magnifying  the  accident  into  a  feat  of 
intention. 

Peter  Rood  drew  back  further  against  the  wall,  with 
a  shocked  expression  on  his  swarthy  face  and  in  his  glit- 
tering black  eyes.  "  I  can't !  "  he  cried.  "  Lemme 
go!" 

"  Why  can't  ye  ?  "  demanded  the  sheriff. 

"  I  ain't  well,"  protested  Rood,  more  calmly. 

"  Shucks !  "  the  officer  incredulously  commented.  "  Ef 
all  I  hev  hearn  o'  that  sort  to-day  war  true,  thar  ain't  a 
hearty,  whoppin'  big  man  in  Cherokee  County  but  what 's 
got  every  disease  from  the  chicken  pip  ter  the  yaller 
fever.  Come  on,  Pete,  an'  quit  foolin'." 

Under  the  strong  coercion  of  the  law  administered  by 
a  sheriff  who  wanted  his  supper,  Rood  could  but  go. 

Despite  his  rapacious  interest  in  all  that  concerned 
the  tragedy,  he  had  hitherto  held  aloof  from  the  court- 
house ;  he  had  withdrawn  himself  even  from  the  streets, 
fearing  to  meet  the  sheriff.  Seeing  the  great  yellow 
lights  in  the  windows,  each  flaring  in  the  rainy  night 
like  some  many-faceted  topaz,  he  had  fancied  that  the 
trial  must  be  well  under  way,  for  no  gossip  had  come  to 
him  in  his  hiding-place  of  the  difficulty  of  securing  a 
jury.  He  could  no  longer  resist  his  curiosity.  He  strode 
at  his  leisurely  gait  up  the  steps,  meaning  merely  to 
glance  within,  when  the  sheriff  issued  upon  him. 

As  he  came  with  the  officer  into  the  room,  Mink 
scanned  him  angrily,  leaned  forward,  and  whispered 
sharply  to  the  lawyer.  Rood  was  trembling  in  every 
fibre  ;  the  fixed  gaze  of  all  the  crowd  seemed  to  pierce 
him ;  his  great  eyes  turned  with  a  fluctuating,  meaning- 
less stare  from  one  official  to  the  other. 

He  was  a  freeholder,  not  a  householder.  He  had 
expressed  no  opinion  as  to  the  guilt  of  the  prisoner. 
Had  he  formed  none?  He  had  not  thought  about  it. 
He  was  challenged  by  the  defense  on  the  score  of  per- 
sonal enmity  toward  the  prisoner,  the  peremptory  chal- 


7.V  THE    CLOUDS.  153 

lenges  being  exhausted.  As  he  was  otherwise  eligible 
he  was  put  upon  his  voir  dire. 

Harshaw  looked  steadily  at  him  for  a  moment,  his  red 
lips  curling,  sitting  with  his  arms  folded  across  his  broad 
chest.  Mink's  bright,  keen  face  close  behind  him  was 
expectant,  already  triumphant.  His  hand  was  on  the 
back  of  his  counsel's  chair. 

Suddenly  Harshaw,  tossing  his  hair  from  his  brow, 
leaned  forward,  with  his  folded  arms  on  the  table  before 
him. 

"  Did  you-  not,  sir,"  he  said,  smacking  his  confident 
red  lips,  and  with  an  exasperatingly  deliberate  delivery, 
—  "did  you  not  on  the  twentieth  day  of  August  ascend 
a  certain  summit  of  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains  called 
Piomingo  Bald,  and  there" — he  derisively  thrust  out 
his  red  tongue  and  withdrew  it  swiftly  —  "  shoot  and 
kill  a  certain  cow,  believing  it  to  belong  to  Mink  Lo — 
to  Reuben  Lorey  ?  " 

The  judge's  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Rood.  He  seemed 
strangely  agitated,  shocked  ;  his  face  assumed  a  ghastly 
pallor. 

The  attorney-general  protested  that  the  juror  was  not 
obliged  to  answer  a  question  which  tended  to  fasten 
disgrace,  nay  crime,  upon  him;  Harshaw  the  while 
still  leaning  on  the  table,  laughing  silently,  and  looking 
with  the  roseate  dimples  of  corpulent  triumph  at  their 
discomfiture. 

"  The  juror  need  not  answer,"  said  the  judge. 

"  I  'm  mighty  willin'  ter  answer,  jedge,"  gasped  Rood. 
"  I  never  done  no  sech  thing  sence  I  war  born." 

In  the  estimation  of  all  the  crowd  it  was  natural  that 
he  should  say  this ;  to  accept  the  privilege  of  silence 
would  be  admission. 

"Let  me  put  another  question  in  altogether  another 
field,"  said  Harshaw,  smoothing  his  yellow  beard.  "  If 
it  please  the  court  to  permit  us  to  cite  the  decision  of 
an  inferior  court,  perhaps,  but  altogether  beyond  the 
jurisdiction  of  this  honorable  court,  I  should  like  to  re- 
fer to  the  dicta  in  the  courts  of  Cupid.  Were  not  you 


154  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

and  the  prisoner  suitors  for  the  hand  of  the  same  young 

kdy?;> 

It  ticlded  him,  to  use  a  phrase  most  descriptive  of  the 
enjoyment  he  experienced,  to  describe  in  this  inflated 
manner  the  humble  "  courtin' "  of  the  mountaineers. 
There  was  a  broad  smile  on  many  of  the  faces  within 
the  bar,  the  townspeople  relishing  particularly  a  joke  of 
this  character  on  the  mountain  folks.  The  judge's  dis- 
cerning gray  eye  was  fixed  upon  him  as  his  pink  laugh 
expanded,  his  peculiarly  red  lips  showing  his  strong 
white  teeth.  * 

u  Yes,  sir,  we  war,"  Rood  admitted.  He  was  calm 
now ;  his  agitation  had  excited  no  comment ;  it  was  to 
be  expected  in  a  man  surprised,  confounded,  and  dis- 
mayed by  so  serious  a  charge. 

"  You  were !  How  interesting !  Go  where  you  may, 
the  world 's  the  same !  The  charmer  spreads  her  snare 
even  up  in  the  cove  !  And  you  and  Reuben  Lorey  fell 
together  in  it,  two  willing  victims.  And  as  he  got  the 
best  of  it,  as  the  lady  preferred  him,  it  would  be  natural 
that  you  should  have  some  little  grudge  against  him, 
hey  ?  " 

"  I  dunno  how  he  got  the  best  of  it,"  said  Rood 
sharply.  "  I  ain't  got  no  grudge  agin  him  fur  that. 
'Twar  jes'  yestiddy  she  sent  me  word  by  her  mother 
ter  kem  back ;  she  war  jes'  foolin'  Mink." 

He  was  evidently  glad  to  tell  it ;  he  did  not  care  even 
for  the  giggle  in  the  crowd. 

The  lawyer  was  abashed  for  a  moment,  and  Mink,  so 
long  accustomed  to  be  rated  a  breaker  of  hearts,  a  lady- 
killer,  was  grievously  cut  down.  In  all  the  episodes  of 
that  day  which  had  so  bristled  with  animosity  this  was 
the  first  moment  that  his  spirit  flagged,  despite  that  he 
had  never  heretofore  cared  for  Elvira,  —  did  not  care 
for  her  now. 

Rood  hardly  was  aware  how  the  examination  was 
tending;  in  the  interests  of  self-defense  he  had  over- 
looked its  purpose.  He  stood  staring  with  blank  amaze 
when  the  judge's  voice  ended  the  discussion. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  155 

"  The  juror  is  competent."  he  said. 

The  two  remaining  talesmen  being  unchallenged,  the 
jury  was  duly  impaneled  and  sworn. 

The  court  was  adjourned.  The  sleepy  crowd  filed 
out  into  the  streets,  the  lights  in  the  court-house  windows 
disappeared,  and  a  dark  and  vacant  interval  ensued. 


XL 

THE  morning  dawned  with  a  radiant  disdain  of  mists. 
The  wind  was  buoyant,  elated.  The  yellow  sunshine,  in 
its  vivid  perfection,  might  realize  to  the  imagination  the 
light  that  first  shone  upon  the  world  when  God  saw  that 
it  was  good.  The  air  was  no  insipid  fluid,  breathed  un- 
consciously. It  asserted  its  fragrance  and  freshness  in 
every  respiration.  It  stirred  the  pulses  like  some  rare 
wine ;  it  seemed,  indeed,  the  subtle  distillation  of  all  the 
fruitage  of  the  year,  enriched  with  the  bouquet  of  the 
summer,  and  reminiscent  of  the  delicate  languors  of  the 
spring.  The  sky  had  lifted  itself  to  empyreal  heights, 
luminously  blue,  with  occasional  faint  fleckings  of  fleecy 
vapors.  The  white  summits  of  the  mountains  were  im- 
posed against  it  with  a  distinctness  that  nullified  distance  ; 
even  down  their  slopes,  beyond  the  limits  of  the  snow- 
fall, the  polychromatic  vestiges  of  autumn  were  visible, 
with  no  crudity  of  color  in  these  sharp  contrasts,  but  with 
a  soft  blending  of  effect.  Within  the  court-house  great 
blocks  of  sunshine  fell  upon  the  floor  through  the  dirty 
panes.  Several  of  the  sashes  were  thrown  up  to  admit 
the  air.  The  rusty  stove  stood  cold  and  empty.  Many 
a  day  had  passed  since  the  spider-webs  that  hung  from 
the  corners  of  the  ceiling  and  draped  the  bare  windows 
of  the  gr^eat  room  had  been  disturbed.  They  might  sug- 
gest to  the  contemplative  mind  analogies  to  the  laby- 
rinthine snares  of  the  law,  where  the  intrusive  flies  per- 
ish miserably,  and  the  spiders  batten.  On  one  of  the 
window-panes  a  blue-bottle  climbed  the  glass,  intent  on 
some  unimagined  achievement;  always  slipping  when 
near  the  top,  and  falling  buzzing  drearily  to  the  bottom, 
to  recommence  his  laborious  ascent  in  the  sunshine. 
Sometimes  he  would  fly  away,  droning  in  melancholy 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  157 

disgust,  presently  returning  and  renewing  his  futile  ef- 
forts. He  was  a  fine  moral  example  of  perverted  pow- 
ers, and  might  well  be  commended  to  the  notice  of  hu- 
man malcontents,  —  by  nature  fitted  to  soar,  but  sighing 
for  feats  of  pedestrianism.  In  contrast  with  the  day  in 
its  alertness,  its  intense  brilliancy,  yesterday  was  blurred, 
dim,  like  some  distorted  dream  hardly  worth  crediting 
as  a  portent.  It  might  need  as  attestation  of  its  reality 
the  jury  which  it  had  brought  forth.  They  were  all 
early  in  their  places,  having  been  sequestered  in  charge 
of  the  sheriff,  and  having  slept  as  it  were  under  the  wing 
of  the  law.  The  privilege  accorded  by  law,  in  phrase  of 
munificent  bestowal,  —  to  be  tried  by  a  jury  of  one's 
peers,  —  seems  at  times  a  gigantic  practical  joke,  perpe- 
trated by  justice  on  simple  humanity.  They  were  indeed 
Mink's  peers  so  far  as  ignorance,  station,  —  for  most  of 
them  were  mountaineers,  —  poverty,  and  prejudice  might 
suffice.  Few  were  so  intelligent,  but  none  so  lawless. 
Most  of  them  were  serving  under  protest,  indifferent  to 
the  dignity  of  the  great  engine  of  justice  which  they  rep- 
resented. The  two  or  three  who  showed  willingness 
were  suspected,  either  by  the  defense  or  the  prosecution, 
of  occult  motives.  All  looked  unkempt,  stolid,  dogged, 
even  surlily  stupid,  as  they  sat  in  two  rows,  chewing  as 
with  one  gesture.  Gradually,  however,  they  visibly 
brightened  under  the  bland  courtesy  of  Mr.  Kenbigh, 
the  attorney  for  the  State,  who  took  early  occasion  to  say 
—  and  he  paraphrased  the  remark  more  than  once  in  the 
course  of  the  day  —  that  he  had  never  had  the  pleasure 
of  trying  a  case  before  so  intelligent  a  jury,  or  one  to 
whom  the  sacred  interests  of  justice  could  be  so  safely 
entrusted.  Harshaw,  too,  deported  himself  toward  them 
with  a  moUifying  suavity  which,  to  judge  from  his  ordi- 
nary manner,  would  have  seemed  impossible.  He  had 
a  very  pretty  wit,  of  a  rough  and  extravagant  style, 
that  greatly  commended  him  to  them  and  relieved  the 
irksomeness  of  their  duress.  Mink  had  evidently  been 
tutored  in  regard  to  his  demeanor  toward  them.  He 
forbore  to  scowl  at  Pete  Rood  with  the  fierce  dismay  his 


158  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

face  had  worn  when  he  saw  his  enemy  sworn  on  the  pre- 
ceding night.  But  his  dissembling  was  limited.  He 
simply  would  not  look  at  Rood  at  all.  There  was  an  un- 
affected confidence,  almost  indifference,  upon  his  hand- 
some face  that  occasioned  much  comment.  It  had  al- 
ready been  rumored  among  the  bar,  thence  percolating 
through  the  town  at  large,  that  the  defense  had  discov- 
ered important  testimony  at  the  last  moment,  but  that 
for  some  reason  Harshaw  had  desired  to  apply  for  a  con- 
tinuance. The  prisoner,  it  was  said,  had  protested,  and 
refused  downright,  declaring  that  by  nightfall,  by  to- 
morrow at  farthest,  he  would  be  on  his  way  to  his  home 
in  Hazel  Valley.  This  rumor  gave  an  added  interest  to 
the  moment  when  the  witnesses  were  brought  in  to  be 
sworn  and  put  under  the  rule.  The  crowd  scanned  each 
with  a  fruitless  conjecture  as  to  which  possessed  the  po- 
tent and  significant  knowledge  on  which  the  defense  re- 
lied. Several  of  them  were  women,  demure  as  nuns  in 
their  straight  skirts  and  short  waists  and  long,  tunnel- 
like  sun-bonnets.  The  mountain  men  strode  in,  and 
stared  about  them  freely,  and  were  very  bold,  in  contrast 
to  these  decorous  associates,  with  their  grave,  downcast 
eyes  and  pale,  passionless  faces.  The  book  was  held  to- 
ward the  witnesses,  two  or  three  were  instructed  to  put 
their  hands  upon  it,  and  then  the  clerk,  in  a  voice  that 
might  have  proceeded  from  an  automaton,  so  wooden  was 
the  tone  and  elocution,  recited  the  oath  with  a  swiftness 
that  seemed  profane.  The  group  stood  half  in  the  slant- 
ing sunbeams,  half  in  the  brown  shadow,  close  about  the 
clerk's  desk.  Among  the  tall,  muscular  figures  of  the 
mountain  men  and  the  pallid,  attenuated  elder  women  was 
Alethea,  looking  like  some  fine  illusion  of  the  dusky 
shadow  and  gilded  sunshine,  with  her  golden  hair  and  her 
brown  homespun  dress.  How  shining  golden  her  hair, 
how  exquisitely  fresh  and  pure  her  face,  how  deep  and 
luminous  and  serious  her  brown  eyes,  showed  as  never  be- 
fore. Somehow  she  was  embellished  by  the  incongruity 
of  the  sordid  surroundings  of  the  court-room,  the  great, 
haggard,  unkempt  place,  and  the  crude  ugliness  of  its 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  159 

frequenters.  Her  face  was  fully  revealed,  for  she  had 
pushed  back  her  bonnet  that  she  might  kiss  the  book. 
As  she  took  it  from  the  clerk's  hand  and  pressed  her  lips 
to  it,  Mink's  heart  stirred  with  a  thrill  it  had  never  be- 
fore known.  He  was  entering  as  a  discoverer  upon  a  new 
realm  of  feeling.  He  experienced  a  subtle  astonishment 
at  the  turbulence,  the  fierceness,  of  his  own  emotion. 

The  judge  was  looking  at  her  ! 

Gwinnan's  hand  still  held  his  pen.  His  head  was  still 
bent  over  the  paper  on  which  he  wrote.  The  casual  side- 
glance  of  those  discerning  gray  eyes  was  prolonged  into 
a  steady  gaze  of  surprise.  He  did  not  finish  the  word 
he  was  writing.  He  laid  the  pen  down  presently.  He 
watched  her  openly,  unconsciously,  as  she  gave  back  the 
book,  and  as  she  walked  with  the  other  witnesses  into 
the  adjoining  room  to  await  the  calling  of  her  name. 

Mink  could  hardly  analyze  this  strange  emotional  ca- 
pacity, this  new  endowment,  that  had  come  to  him,  so 
amazed  was  he  by  its  unwonted  presence.  He  had  not 
known  that  he  could  feel  jealousy.  He  could  not  iden- 
tify it  when  it  fell  upon  him.  He  had  been  so  supreme 
in  Alethea's  heart,  so  arrogantly  sure  of  its  possession, 
that  he  had  not  cared  for  Ben  Doaks's  hopeless  worship 
from  afar;  it  did  not  even  add  to  her  consequence  in 
his  eyes.  But  that  this  stranger  of  high  degree  —  he 
would  not  have  phrased  it  thus,  for  he  had  been  reared 
in  ignorance  of  the  distinction  of  caste,  yet  he  instinc- 
tively recognized  it  in  the  judge's  power,  his  isolated  offi- 
cial prominence,  his  utter  removal  from  all  the  conditions 
of  the  mountaineer's  world  —  that  this  man  should  look 
at  her  with  that  long,  wondering  gaze,  should  lay  down 
his  pen,  forgetting  the  word  he  was  to  write  ! 

Mink  felt  a  terrible  pang  of  isolation.  For  the  first 
time  Alethea  was  in  his  mind  as  an  independent  iden- 
tity, subject  to  influences  he  could  scarcely  gauge,  per- 
haps harboring  thoughts  in  which  he  had  no  share.  Her 
love  for  him  had  hitherto  served  for  him  as  an  expres- 
sion of  her  whole  nature.  He  had  never  recognized 
other  possibilities.  Even  her  continual  pleas  that  he 


160  /2V  THE   CLOUDS. 

should  take  heed  of  the  error  of  his  ways  he  had  es- 
teemed as  evidence  of  her  absorption  in  him,  her  eager, 
earnest  aspiration  for  his  best  good ;  she  would  endure 
his  displeasure  rather  than  forego  aught  that  might  in- 
ure to  his  welfare.  He  had  felt  no  gratitude  that  she 
had  come  to  rescue  him,  as  she  had  often  done,  never  so 
sorely  needed  as  now ;  it  had  seemed  to  him  natural  that 
she  should  bestir  herself,  since  she  loved  him  so.  The 
first  doubt  of  the  permanence  and  pervasiveness  of  this 
paramount  affection  stirred  within  him.  He  wondered 
if  she  had  noticed  the  man's  look,  if  she  were  flattered 
by  it.  He  sought  to  reassure  himself.  "  Lethe  jes' 
bogues  along,  though,  seem'  nuthin',  study  in'  'bout 
suthin'  else ;  mebbe  she  never  noticed.  But  ef  Mis' 
Purvine  hed  been  hyar,  or  Mis'  Sayles,  I  be  bound, 
they  'd  hev  seen  it,  an'  tole  her,  too,  else  they  ain't  the 
wimmen  I  take  'em  fur."  He  marveled  whether  Gwin- 
nan  had  thought  she  was  pretty.  He  himself  had  always 
accounted  her  a  fairly  "  good-lookin'  gal,"  but  no  better 
favored  than  Elvira  Crosby. 

He  had  had  no  fear  of  the  result  of  the  case  since  he 
had  known  of  Alethea's  strange  glimpse  of  Tad ;  he  was, 
too,  in  a  moral  sense,  infinitely  relieved  by  the  circum- 
stance. Otherwise  he  might  not  have  been  able  to  en- 
tertain a  train  of  thought  so  irrelevant  to  the  testimony 
which  was  being  given  by  the  witnesses  for  the  State. 
He  heard  it  only  casually,  although  he  now  and  then 
languidly  joined  the  general  smile  that  rewarded  some 
happy  hit  of  Harshaw's.  These  pleasantries  were  chiefly 
elicited  in  cross-examining  the  witnesses  for  the  State, 
and  in  wrangles  with  the  attorney-general  as  to  the  ad- 
missibility  of  evidence.  Kenbigh,  with  a  determination 
of  purple  wrath  to  his  bald  head,  would  in  his  stentorian 
roar  call  aloud  upon  his  authorities  with  a  reverent  faith 
as  if  they  were  calendared  saints.  More  than  once  the 
court  ruled  against  him,  when  it  seemed  appropriate  in 
his  next  remark  to  drop  his  voice  to  a  rumbling  basso 
profundo.  He  maintained  due  respect  for  the  judge  and 
showed  a  positive  affection  for  the  jury,  but  the  very 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  161 

sight  of  Harshaw  would  excite  him  to  an  almost  bovine 
expression  of  rage,  —  the  florid  counsel  being  like  a  red 
rag  to  a  bull.  At  first  the  only  point  which  Harshaw 
seemed  desirous  to  make  was  that  none  of  the  witnesses 
had  attached  any  importance  to  Mink's  threats,  the  af- 
ternoon of  the  shooting  match,  to  "  bust  down  the  mill," 
until  they  heard  of  the  disaster.  He  tried,  too,  to  induce 
them  to  admit  that  Mink  was  a  good  fellow  in  the  main. 
The  tragic  results,  however,  of  his  late  mischief  had 
given  a  new  and  serious  interpretation  to  all  his  previous 
pranks,  and  the  witnesses  were  more  likely  to  furnish 
supplemental  instances  of  freakish  malice  and  the  mis- 
chievous ingenuity  of  his  intentional  reprisals  than  to 
palliate  his  jocose  capers.  One  old  man,  a  by-stander  at 
the  shooting  match,  was  especially  emphatic,  even  ven- 
omous. Harshaw  involved  him  in  a  sketch  of  what  he 
considered  a  young  man  should  be.  When  asked  where 
he  had  ever  known  such  a  man  he  naively  confessed,  — 
himself,  "  whenst  I  war  young." 

Harshaw  found  it  much  safer  to  take  the  aggressive. 
He  played  upon  the  alternating  fears  which  Mink's 
comrades  entertained  of  the  revenuers  and  the  moon- 
shiners. He  seemed  to  question  rather  pro  forma  than 
with  the  expectation  of  eliciting  serious  results,  and  to 
amuse  himself  with  the  involutions  and  contradictions 
in  which  he  contrived  to  enmesh  them,  in  replying  to 
his  questions  as  to  their  sobriety  that  night  in  the  woods, 
what  they  had  to  drink,  how  much  it  required  to  make 
them  drunk. 

To  the  witness  it  was  not  a  reassuring  playfulness. 
Harshaw  looked  very  formidable  as  he  sat,  his  chair 
tilted  back  on  its  hind  legs,  both  hands  clasping  the 
lapels  of  his  coat.  Whenever  he  made  a  point  he 
smacked  his  confident  red  lips. 

**  You  were  perfectly  sober  that  night  ?  " 

The  witness  virtuously  assented. 

"And  why  shouldn't  you  be,"  said  the  crafty  Har- 
shaw, "  when  we  all  know  there  is  no  still  but  the  God- 
fearing bonded  still  in  the  whole  country  !  Look  at  the 


162  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

jury,  and  tell  them  that  you  were  not  drinking  that 
night." 

The  unfortunate  witness  faltered  that  he  had  been 
drinking  some. 

"  You  had !  "  exclaimed  Harshaw,  with  the  accents  of 
surprise.  "  And  yet  you  say,  on  oath,  that  you  \vere  so- 
ber. Now  what  do  you  call  sober  ?  We  must  inquire 
into  this.  What  do  you  take  ?  I  wish  I  could  put  that 
question  as  it  should  be  between  gentlemen,  but  "  —  he 
waved  his  fat  hand —  "  some  other  day." 

The  witness  stared  dumbly  at  him,  and  the  crowd 
grinned. 

"  Let  me  put  the  question  in  another  form.  How 
much  of  the  reverend  stuff  is  enough  to  settle  you?  A 
pint  ?  " 

The  witness  gallantly  declared  that  he  could  stand  a 
pint. 

"  A  jugful  ?  " 

"Oh,  naw,  sir," — meaning  a  jugful  would  not  be  nec- 


In  the  staccato  of  affected  amaze,  "Barrelful !  " 

The  badgered  witness  protested  and  explained,  and 
Harshaw  asked,  lowering  his  voice,  as  if  it  were  exceed- 
ingly important,  "  Now,  did  that  whiskey  taste  like  brush 
whiskey  ?  " 

As  the  quaking,  shock-headed  country  lout  replied, 
the  facetious  counsel  recoiled. 

'/What !  you  tell  this  honorable  court,  and  this  intelli- 
gent jury,  and  this  upright  and  learned  and  teetotaling 
attorney  for  the  State,  that  you  don't  know  the  differ- 
ence in  the  taste  between  the  illicit  corn  juice  of  the 
mountains  and  the  highly  honorable,  pure,  rectified  liq- 
uor, taxed  and  stamped,  made  and  drunk,  under  the  au- 
spices of  this  great,  good,  and  glorious  government !  " 

The  judge,  who  had  watched  Harshaw  with  a  dilated, 
gleaming  gray  eye  and  a  quivering  nostril,  spoke  ab- 
ruptly. 

"  The  court  will  not  longer  tolerate  this  buffoonery," 
he  drawled.  "  Counsel  may  cross-examine  witness,  and 
if  he  has  nothing  to  say  he  may  be  silent." 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  163 

Harshaw  flushed  deeply.  He  had  always  enjoyed 
certain  privileges  as  a  wit.  Judge  Averill,  who  loved  a 
joke  for  its  own  gladsome  sake,  had  often  permitted  him 
to  transcend  decorum.  He  had  no  idea,  however,  of  fig- 
uring as  the  butt  of  his  own  ridicule.  He  was  a  quick 
fellow,  and  took  what  advantage  was  possible  of  the  sit- 
uation. "  If  it  please  your  Honor,"  he  said,  rising  to 
address  the  judge,  and  with  an  air  of  great  courtesy,  "  I 
will  waive  the  right  of  cross-examination,  since  my  meth- 
ods fail  in  satisfying  the  court." 

Gwinnan  looked  at  him  with  thinly  veiled  antagonism. 
Harshaw  relapsed  into  his  tilted  chair,  still  lightly  hold- 
ing his  lapels,  that  favorite  posture  of  rural  gentlemen, 
listening  with  an  air  of  polite  but  incidental  attention  to 
the  attorney-general's  examination  of  the  next  witness, 
and  declining  with  a  wave  of  his  fat  hand  to  cross-exam- 
ine. 

A  stir  of  excitement  pervaded  the  bar  ;  great  interest 
was  aroused  in  the  audience.  An  old  farmer,  sitting  on 
one  of  the  benches,  holding  one  treasured  knee  in  both 
hands,  put  his  foot  on  the  floor  to  take  care  of  itself,  and 
leaned  forward  in  breathless  eagerness  to  lose  no  word. 
Others,  who  had  been  less  attentive,  were  nudging  one 
another,  and  asking  what  had  been  said.  Again  and 
again,  as  the  successive  witnesses  were  turned  over  to 
the  defense  for  cross-examination,  and  the  lawyer  waved 
his  pudgy  hand,  there  was  a  suppressed  sensation.  His 
freak  of  silence  had  the  effect  of  greatly  expediting  mat- 
ters, and  the  attorney-general  announced  before  the 
adjournment  for  dinner  that  he  had  no  more  witnesses 
to  call. 

In  conducting  the  examination  of  the  defendant's  wit- 
nesses Harshaw  was  extremely  grave.  He  had  an  ex- 
cited gleam  in  his  eye,  a  flurried,  precipitate  manner,  as 
he  went  on.  Now  and  then  he  nodded  his  head,  and 
tossed  back  his  mane  of  yellow  hair  as  if  it  were  heavy 
and  harassed  him.  He  still  sat  in  the  big,  important 
posture  he  liked  to  assume,  but  every  glance  was  full  of 
an  acute  anxiety. 


164  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

Mink  strove  again  to  fix  his  mind  on  the  testimony. 
Over  and  over  it  wandered.  He  only  knew  vaguely  that 
his  best  friends  were  assuring  the  jury  that  his  escapades 
were  all  in  mirth  and  naught  in  malice,  and  instancing 
as  indications  of  his  deeper  nature  all  the  good  turns 
he  had  ever  done.  He  was  a  loose-handed  fellow.  He 
had  no  thrifty  instincts,  and  perhaps  because  he  valued 
lightly  he  gave  freely.  But  the  habit,  such  as  it  might 
be,  was  displayed  to  the  jury  under  the  guise  of  gen- 
erosity. 

The  sunlight  now  slanting  upon  the  walls  had  turned 
to  a  deep  golden-red  hue,  for  the  early  sunset  was  close 
at  hand.  Through  a  western  window  one  might  see  the 
great  vermilion  sphere,  begirt  with  a  horizontal  band  of 
gray  cloud,  and  sinking  down  into  the  dun-colored  un- 
certainties about  the  horizon.  The  yellow  hickory-tree 
beside  the  window  showed  through  its  thinning  leaves 
the  graceful  symmetry  of  its  black  boughs.  The  room 
was  dropping  into  a  mellow  duskiness,  hardly  obscu- 
rity, for  as  yet  the  soft  light  was  sufficient  to  make  all 
objects  distinct  in  the  midst  of  the  gathering  shadow,  — 
the  lawyers,  the  prisoner,  the  tousled  heads  of  the  au- 
dience, the  attentive  jury,  the  unwearied  judge.  Har- 
shaw  could  even  read  his  own  handwriting  as  he  looked 
at  the  list  he  held,  and  said,  "  Mr.  Sheriff,  call  Alethea 
Sayles." 

"  Alethea  Sayles,"  roared  Mr.  Sheriff  at  the  door,  as 
if  Alethea  Sayles  were  "  beyond  the  seas "  and  hard  of 
hearing  besides,  instead  of  waiting  expectantly  in  the 
adjoining  room,  ten  steps  away. 

As  she  came  in,  Mink  was  quick  to  notice  the  interest 
on  Gwinnan's  face,  —  a  sort  of  grave  curiosity  without 
any  element  of  disrespect.  She  had  a  look  in  her  eyes 
which  Mink  had  often  seen  before,  and  which  at  once 
rebuked  and  angered  him,  —  an  expression  of  spiritual 
earnestness,  of  luminous  purity  ;  he  had  sneered  at  it  as 
"  trying  to  look  pious."  She  sat  down  in  the  witness- 
chair,  and  pushed  back  from  her  forehead  her  long  bon- 
net ;  under  its  brown  rim  her  golden  hair  showed  in 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  165 

lustrous  waves.  Her  saffron  kerchief  was  knotted  be- 
neath her  round  chin.  Her  face  was  slightly  flushed 
with  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  but  she  was  not 
flurried,  nor  embarrassed,  nor  restless,  nor  uncouth,  as 
many  of  her  predecessors  had  been.  Her  deliberate, 
serious  manner  gave  her  an  air  of  great  value,  and  as 
she  began  to  reply  to  the  questions,  her  clear-voiced,  soft 
drawl  pervaded  the  court-room,  singularly  silent  now, 
and  there  was  a  growing  impression  that  hers  was  the 
important  testimony  for  which  all  had  been  waiting. 
Harshaw's  manner  served  to  confirm  this.  He  was  re- 
pressed, grave ;  only  the  quick,  nervous  glance  of  his 
opaque  blue  eye  indicated  his  excitement ;  his  questions 
were  framed  with  the  greatest  care,  and  some  of  these 
were  strange  enough  to  excite  comment.  He  asked  her 
first  to  tell  all  that  she  knew  about  the  party  in  the 
woods  that  night,  —  whether  they  were  drinking  and  had 
access  to  any  ample  supply  of  liquor.  She  recited  her 
adventure  at  Boke's  barn,  and  detailed  the  subsequent 
interview  with  the  moonshiner  and  her  refusal  to  keep 
his  secret,  throughout  scarcely  suppressed  excitement  in 
the  court-room,  for  every  man  knew  that  with  the  words 
she  courted  martyrdom  and  took  her  life  in  her  hands. 
Harshaw  seemed  to  prize  this  attestation  of  her  courage 
and  her  high  sense  of  the  sacred  obligations  of  her  oath, 
and  dexterously  contrived  it  so  that  the  judge  and  the 
jury  should  be  fully  impressed  with  the  crystalline  purity 
of  her  moral  sense,  with  her  immovable  determination 
to  tell  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the 
truth.  He  persevered  in  the  examination  of  this  point 
with  great  pertinacity,  despite  many  stormy  wrangles 
with  the  attorney  for  the  State  as  to  the  pertinence  and 
admissibility  of  the  evidence,  and  the  occasional  ruling 
of  the  judge  against  him.  Enough  was  secured,  how- 
ever, to  prove  that  despite  the  limitations  of  the  bonded 
still,  Mink  had  had  the  opportunity  to  get  drunk  if  he 
chose,  and  his  habits  were  not  those  of  a  teetotaler. 

The  lawyer's  questions  then  became  more  inexplicable. 

"  When  you  discovered  that  you  could  give  some  tes- 
timony in  this  case,  what  did  you  do? " 


166  IN   THE   CLOUDS. 

Alethea  pushed  back  her  bonnet  still  further,  and 
stared  at  him. 

"  Why,  you-uns  know,"  she  said. 

"  Tell  the  jury." 

Like  many  rural  witnesses,  she  persisted  in  addressing 
the  judge.  She  would  fix  her  serious  brown  eyes  on  the 
stolid  wooden  faces  in  the  jury-box,  then  lift  them  to 
the  judge  and  answer. 

"  I  kem  down  ter  the  jail  ter  see  Reuben,  an'  tell 
him." 

"  And  did  you  see  him?" 

She  looked  at  Harshaw,  with  a  deep  humiliation  and 
resentment  intensifying  the  flush  on  her  delicate  cheek 
to  a  burning  crimson.  His  gravity,  the  respect  of  his 
manner,  reassured  her.  She  replied  with  her  deliberate 
dignity,  — 

"You-uns  know  mighty  well  he  would  n't  see  me." 

"  Then  what  did  you  do  ?  " 

She  seemed  for  a  moment  doubtful  if  she  would 
answer. 

"  I  dunno  how  ye  hev  forgot,"  she  said  slowly.  "  / 
hain't." 

"  I  want  you  to  tell  the  jury,"  he  explained. 

"  I  tried  to  make  you  listen." 

"  And  what  did  I  do  ?  " 

Once  more  she  pushed  her  brown  bonnet  further  from 
her  golden  head,  and  looked  at  him  silently. 

The  pause  was  so  long  that  the  attorney-general  re- 
marked that  really  he  could  not  see  the  pertinence  of 
the  examination. 

The  judge  spoke  presently :  "  Counsel  would  do  well 
not  to  harass  the  witness  with  unnecessary  questions." 

What  new  life  was  in  the  man's  tones !  He  had  for- 
gotten to  drawl.  There  had  been  many  a  badgered 
witness  on  the  stand  to-day  whom  he  had  not  interfered 
to  protect.  Mink  eyed  him  narrowly  through  the  closing 
dusk.  He  was  leaning  forward  upon  the  desk.  He  was 
listening  with  no  impartial  judicial  interest.  A  personal 
concern  was  expressed  in  his  face. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  167 

The  sympathetic  cadence  in  his  voice  struck  on  other 
ears  than  Mink's.  It  was  like  an  open  sesame  to  Ale- 
thea's  heart.  The  pent-up  indignation  burst  forth.  She 
was  all  at  once  eager  to  tell  the  affronts  she  could  not 
resent.  "  He  would  n't  listen  ter  me,  jedge !  "  she  cried. 
"  He  ran  from  me,  —  actially  ran  down  the  street.  An' 
I  did  n't  know  what  ter  do.  An'  nobody  knowed  'bout  'n 
it  but  me.  An'  I  dassent  tell  nobody  'ceptin'  the  lawyer. 
An'  Jerry  Price,  —  him  ez  air  on  the  juryr — he  'lowed 
ef  I  knowed  suthin'  I  wanted  ter  tell  in  court,  he  'd  make 
the  lawyer  listen,  an'  so  he  did.  An'  I  tole  him." 

"  When  was  that  ?  "  asked  Harshaw. 

"  Yestiddy  mornin'." 

"  So  that  was  the  reason  you  did  n't  tell  it  before  ?  " 

"  I  war  feared  ter  tell  ennybody  but  the  lawyer,  'kase 
Reuben's  enemies  mought  fix  it  somehows  so  't  would  n't 
be  no  'count." 

"  Well,  what  was  this  you  wanted  to  tell  ?  " 

Her  face  was  growing  dim  among  the  glooms.  The 
dusky  figures  within  the  bar,  the  shadowy  judge,  the  in- 
distinct mass  of  the  crowd,  the  great  windows,  —  indefi- 
nite gray  squares,  —  seemed  for  a  moment  the  darker 
because  of  a  dull  suffusion  of  yellow  light  in  the  halls, 
falling  through  the  doorways,  and  heralding  the  coming 
of  the  lamps. 

"  I  wanted  to  tell  that  I  seen  Tad  Simpkins  arter  they 
'lowed  he  war  drownded." 

There  was  absolute  silence  for  a  moment ;  then,  wild 
commotion.  Men  were  talking  loudly  to  each  other  in 
the  crowd.  The  lights  came  in  with  a  flare.  Several  of 
the  jury  requested  to  have  the  answer  repeated.  The 
attorney-general  began  to  ask  a  question,  left  off,  and 
bent  his  head  to  his  notes.  A  sudden  shrill,  quaking 
voice  pierced  the  tumult. 

"  I  know  it  air  a  true  word !  "  cried  the  old  miller, 
clasping  his  hands.  "  God  would  not  deliver  my  soul 
ter  hell.  I  fund  him  in  my  youth,  but  my  age  air  the 
age  o'  the  backslider.  He  would  not  desert  me.  though ! 
An'  I  hev  been  gin  ter  do  my  good  works  o'  faith  anew. 
I  '11  find  my  boy.  I  '11  make  amends.  I  '11 "  — 


168  TN  THE  CLOUDS. 

The  sheriff's  insistence,  "  Silence  in  court ! "  had  no 
coercion  for  him.  He  began  to  sob  and  cry  aloud,  and 
to  call  the  idiot's  name,  and  was  finally  taken  by  the 
deputy  and  led  out  of  the  court-room,  the  officer  promis- 
ing to  come  and  let  him  know  as  soon  as  Alethea  had 
disclosed  the  boy's  whereabouts. 

Mink  glanced  around  him  in  triumph.  His  lip  curved. 
A  brilliant  elation  shone  in  his  eyes.  He  tossed  back, 
with  an  arrogant  gesture,  his  long,  red,  curling  hair, 
gilded  by  the  lamplight  to  a  brighter  hue.  He  joyed  to 
see  the  discomfiture  of  his  detractors,  who  had  given  their 
testimony  with  all  the  gusto  that  appertains  to  stamping 
on  a  man,  literally  and  metaphorically,  who  is  already 
down.  He  noted,  too,  the  surprise  and  pleasure  in  Ben 
Doaks's  eye,  in  Jerry  Price's  freckled,  ugly  face,  and, 
strangely  enough,  Peter  Rood  looked  transfigured.  His 
surly  scowl  was  gone,  as  if  it  had  never  existed.  His 
swarthy  face  was  irradiated  by  his  great  excited  eyes. 
A  flush  dyed  his  cheek.  His  breath  came  in  quick 
gasps.  He  seemed  inordinately  relieved,  delighted. 
What!  because  the  forlorn  little  idiot  was  not  dead? 
Mink  could  not  understand  it.  With  not  even  a  sur- 
mise to  explain  the  demonstration,  he  stared  in  suddenly 
renewed  gravity  at  his  old  enemy  on  the  jury. 

As  soon  as  order  was  restored,  Harshaw  resumed  his 
questions. 

*'  Tell  the  jury  when  and  where  you  saw  him,  and 
how  you  are  sure  it  was  after  he  was  reputed  to  be 
drowned." 

"  'Kase  't  war  on  the  Monday  o'  the  camp-meetin'  in 
Eskaqua  Cove,  an'  that  war  n't  begun  till  arter  the  mill 
war  busted  down,"  said  Alethea. 

She  detailed  the  scene  at  the  little  school-house  in  her 
uncouth  phrasings,  every  syllable  carrying  conviction  to 
her  hearers.  Her  bonnet  had  fallen  quite  back  on  her 
shoulders.  Her  face  was  delicately  ethereal  in  the  lamp- 
light, —  so  much  of  the  sincerities  of  her  nature  it  ex- 
pressed, so  fine  and  true  an  intelligence,  that,  beautiful  as 
it  was,  it  was  still  more  spiritual.  The  strange  story 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  169 

she  had  told  was  improbable.  Looking  upon  her  face  it 
was  impossible  to  doubt  it. 

"  That  night,  what  did  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  let  Buck  an'  the  rest  o'  the  fambly  go  by  ter  aunt 
Dely's  house,  an'  whenst  they  war  out  o'  sight  I  called 
Tad,  but  he  would  n't  answer.  An'  then  I  climbed  over 
the  fence,  an'  sarched  an'  sarched  fur  him.  But  I 
could  n't  find  him,  —  not  in  the  house,  nor  under  it,  nare 
one.  Then  I  went  on  ter  aunt  Dely's,  —  Mis'  Pur- 
vine's,"  she  added,  decorously,  remembering  that  her 
relative  was  a  stickler  for  etiquette,  and  might  not  relish 
the  familiar  appellation  of  kinship  in  a  public  assembly. 
"  I  never  tole  nobody,  'kase  I  war  feared  ez  whoever  bed 
Tad  a-hidin'  of  him  fur  spite  agin  Reuben  would  hear 
'bout'n  it,  an'  take  him  so  fur  away  ez  we-uns  could  n't 
never  ketch  him  agin.  I  went  back  ter  the  schoolhouse 
over  an'  over,  a-sarchin'  fur  him,  hopiri'  he  'd  take  a  no- 
tion ter  kem  thar  agin.  An'  at  last  I  'lowed  I  'd  tell  the 
lawyer." 

It  had  become  very  plain  to  the  listeners  that  it  was 
in  the  interests  of  his  client  that  Harshaw  had  permitted 
his  own  rude  conduct  to  be  made  public.  The  prosecu- 
tion could  not  now  reasonably  demand  why  a  hue  and 
cry  had  not  been  raised,  and  why  the  boy  was  not 
brought  into  court,  as  it  was  very  evident  that  because 
of  the  witness's  mistaken  secrecy  and  the  lawyer's  pur- 
blind folly  the  facts  had  not  become  known  to  the  de- 
fense until  the  preceding  day,  when  it  was  futile  to 
search  a  place  where  the  fugitive  had  been  glimpsed 
three  months  before. 

The  attorney-general,  about  to  cross-examine  the  wit- 
ness, cleared  his  throat  several  times  on  a  low  key.  He 
began  with  a  deliberation  and  caution  which  indicated 
that  he  considered  her  formidable  to  the  interests  of  the 
State.  He  sat  with  his  side  to  the  table,  —  the  rural 
lawyer  seldom  rises  save  to  address  the  court,  —  with 
one  elbow  upon  it,  and  the  other  hand  twirling  his  heavy 
gold  watch-chain  that  festooned  his  ample  stomach. 
More  than  once  he  desisted  in  tins  operation,  and  passed 


170    x  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

his  hand  soothingly  over  his  bald  head,  as  if  he  were 
encouraging  his  ideas.  He  at  once  sought  to  show  an 
interested  motive  in  the  testimony. 

Was  she  a  relation  of  the  prisoner  ?  Was  she  not 
interested  in  him  ?  Was  he  not  her  lover  ?  Ah,  he  had 
been !  And  he  was  not  now  ?  And  why  ? 

Alethea's  simple  and  modest  decorum  in  answering 
these  questions  abashed  the  ridicule  that  the  mere  men- 
tion of  the  tender  passion  always  excites  in  a  rural 
crowd.  She  only  threw  added  light  upon  her  character 
when  she  replied : 

"  Reuben  did  n't  like  folks  ter  argufy  with  him.  I 
useter  beg  him  not  ter  play  kyerds,  an'  be  so  powerful 
gamesome,  an'  drink  whiskey,  an'  git  in  sech  a  many 
scrapes.  An'  he  'lowed  't  war  n't  my  business.  An'  I 
reckon  't  war  n't.  But  it  never  'peared-like  ter  me  ez 
sech  goin's-on  war  right,  an'  I  could  n't  holp  sayin'  so. 
An'  so  he  'lowed  ez  me  an'  him  could  n't  agree,  an'  thar 
war  no  use  a-tryin'." 

Mink  glanced  up  at  Gwinnan  to  note  the  impression 
of  this  plain  statement.  The  judge  was  looking  at  him. 

The  attorney-general  went  on,  hoping  to  find  a  dis- 
crepancy in  her  testimony,  yet  hardly  knowing  how  he 
had  best  approach  it.  The  court-room  had  relapsed  into 
absolute  silence.  One  could  hear  in  the  pauses  the  slight 
movement  of  the  branches  of  the  trees  without  as  the 
light  wind  stirred.  They  were  distinctly  visible  beside 
the  windows,  for  the  night  was  fair.  All  the  long  upper 
sashes  gave  upon  a  sky  of  a  fine,  pure  azure,  seeming 
more  delicate  for  the  dull  yellow  lamplight  flooding  the 
room.  The  moon  with  an  escort  of  clouds  was  riding 
splendidly  up  toward  the  meridian ;  now  and  then  they 
closed  jealously  about  her,  and  again  through  their  part- 
ing ranks  she  looked  out  radiantly  and  royally  on  her 
realms  below.  The  frost  touched  the  panes  here  and 
there  with  a  crystalline  sparkle.  The  attorney-general 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  moon  as  he  pondered ;  then,  his 
fingers  drumming  lightly  upon  the  table,  he  asked,  "  It 
was  at  the  little  school-house  on  the  road  to  Bethel  camp- 
ground ?  " 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  171 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Alethea. 

"  Were  you  ever  there  before  ?  " 

"A  many  a  time,"  said  Alethea.  "The  folkses  in 
Eskaqua  Cove  goes  thar  ter  preachin'." 

He  glanced  again  absently  at  the  moon,  his  fingers 
still  drumming  on  the  table. 

"  It 's  a  church-house,  then,"  he  said,  adopting  the 
vernacular,  "  as  well  as  a  school-house  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  assented  the  witness. 

"  Well,  is  this  fence  by  which  you  were  standing  the 
fence  around  the  play-yard  ?  " 

"  Naw,  sir,"  said  Alethea,  amazed  at  the  idea  of  this 
civilized  provision  for  youthful  sports.  "  The  palin's  air 
round  three  sides  o'  the  house,  leavin'  out  the  side  whar 
the  door  be,  ter  pertect  the  graves." 

The  drumming  fingers  of  the  attorney-general  were 
suddenly  still.  "  It  is  a  graveyard,  then  ?  "  he  said,  in 
a  sepulchral  undertone,  overmastered  himself  by  the  sur- 
prise. 

"  Yes,  sir.  Folks  air  buried  thar.  It  's  a  grave- 
yard." 

There  was  a  pause. 

"  There  's  no  place  more  appropriate  for  a  boy  in  poor 
Tad's  predicament  to  be  !  "  cried  the  lawyer.  "  Look 
here,"  squaring  himself  before  the  table  and  placing  his 
elbows  upon  it,  "  do  you  believe  in  ghosts  ?  " 

Harshaw  had  changed  color;  he  had  been  fiercely  bit- 
ing his  red  lips  and  stroking  his  yellow  beard  through- 
out these  interrogatories,  seeing  their  drift  more  clearly, 
perhaps,  than  the  prosecuting  officer  did.  Now  he 
sprang  to  his  feet,  and  insisted  that  the  attorney  for  the 
State  should  not  be  permitted  to  play  upon  the  supersti- 
tion of  the  witness.  She  had  seen  no  ghost.  The  court 
would  not,  he  hoped,  permit  the  questions  to  take  the 
form  of  an  attempt  to  persuade  a  witness  —  of  great  na- 
tive intelligence,  indeed,  and  of  the  highest  moral  worth, 
but  densely  ignorant,  and  doubtless  saturated  with  the 
ridiculous  superstitions  of  the  uneducated  —  that  in  see- 
ing this  fugitive  lad  she  had  beheld  a  supernatural  man- 


172  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

ifestation.  "  In  one  moment,  sir,"  he  interpolated,  ad- 
dressing Peter  Rood,  who  sat  in  the  back  row  of  the 
jury,  and  who  had  suddenly  bent  forward,  pointing  a 
long  finger  at  the  witness,  as  if  he  were  about  to  ask  a 
question.  "  The  boy  doubtless  swam  out  of  the  river, 
and  being  a  maltreated  little  drudge  ran  away,  and  is 
now  somewhere  held  in  hiding  by  persons  inimical  to  the 
prisoner.  The  witness  had  a  glimpse  of  him.  There  is 
no  man  here  ignorant  enough  to  believe  that  she  saw  a 
ghost,  —  least  of  all  the  learned  and  astute  counsel  for 
the  State." 

"  I  don't  believe  she  saw  a  ghost,"  said  the  attorney- 
general,  still  seated,  cocking  up  his  eyes  at  his  vehement 
opponent.  "  I  do  believe,  however,  most  firmly,  that 
the  witness  had  an  illusion,  hallucination." 

There  was  a  stir  in  the  audience  and  the  jury  as  he 
uttered  these  big  words.  They  seemed  to  represent 
something  more  vaguely  formidable  than  a  ghost. 

"  Counsel  must  conduct  the  examination  on  a  reason- 
able basis,"  remarked  the  judge. 

"  I  will  do  so,  your  Honor,"  in  the  basso  prof  undo  of 
deep  respect. 

Mink,  agitated,  trembling  with  the  sudden  shock, 
leaned  forward  and  looked  with  burning  eyes  at  Alethea. 
How  was  she  discrediting  the  testimony  she  had  given 
for  him  ?  How  was  she  jeopardizing  his  fate  ? 

She  was  almost  overcome  for  a  moment.  Her  nerves 
were  shaken  ;  she  was  appalled  by  the  sudden  revolu- 
tion her  simple  disclosure  had  wrought.  Her  lips  trem- 
bled, her  eyes  filled,  but  she  made  a  gallant  struggle  for 
self-control,  and  answered  in  a  steady  voice  the  attorney- 
general's  next  question. 

"  Did  the  boy  wear  a  hat,  or  was  he  bare-headed  ?  " 

There  was  suppressed  excitement  in  the  audience,  for 
Tad's  hat  and  coat,  recovered  from  the  river,  had  been 
shown  to  the  jury  while  she  was  in  the  ante-room  with 
the  other  witnesses. 

"  I  did  n't  notice,  —  't  war  so  suddint." 

"  How  was  he  dressed  ?  " 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  173 

"  I  did  n't  see,"  faltered  Alethea. 

"  What  did  you  see  ?  " 

"  I  seen  his  face,  ez  clear  ez  I  see  yourn  this  minit." 

"  How  did  he  look,  —  hearty  ?  " 

"  Naw,  sir  ;  he  looked  mighty  peaked.  His  face  war 
bleached,"  —  a  thrill  ran  through  the  crowd,  —  "  an'  I 
reckon  he  war  skeered  ez  he  seen  me,  fur  he  'peared 
plumb  tarrined." 

"  How  long  did  you  see  his  face  ?  " 

"  A  minit,  mebbe  ;  the  fog  passed  'twixt  us." 

"  Ah,  there  was  fog !  " 

The  attorney  -  general  cast  a  triumphant  sidelong 
glance  at  the  jury. 

He  paused  abruptly,  and  turned  toward  them. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  he  said,  addressing  Peter 
Rood.  "  I  had  quite  forgotten  you  wanted  to  ask  a 
question." 

It  did  not  immediately  strike  him  as  odd  that  the  .man 
was  still  in  the  same  position,  —  in  the  shadow,  leaning 
forward,  supported  on  the  back  of  the  chair  of  the  jury- 
man in  front  of  him,  and  still  pointing  at  the  witness 
with  a  long  finger. 

The  judge  took  note  of  the  lapse  of  time.  "  Mr. 
Sheriff,"  he  said,  irritably,  "  wake  that  juror  up.  The 
man  's  asleep." 

There  was  a  stir  in  the  jury-box  among  the  attentive 
eleven  men.  The  juror  on  whose  chair  the  immovable 
figure  leaned  turned  his  head,  and  met  the  fixed  gaze  of 
the  eyes  so  close  to  his  own. 

He  sprang  up  with  a  loud  cry. 

"  The  man  is  dead  !  "  he  shrieked. 


XII. 

THE  finger  of  the  dead  man  still  pointed  at  Alethea. 
His  ghastly  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her.  The  chair  of  the 
juryman  in  front  of  him  had  sustained  his  weight  in  the 
same  position  in  which  he  had  fallen  when  the  first  shock 
of  the  idea  that  the  witness  had  seen  a  spectre  instead 
of  the  boy,  alive  and  well,  had  thrilled  through  the 
room. 

For  a  few  moments  it  was  a  scene  of  strange  confu- 
sion. The  crowd  rose  from  their  seats,  and  surged  up 
to  the  bar.  New-comers  were  rushing  in  from  the  halls. 
Some  one  was  calling  aloud  the  name  of  the  principal 
physician  of  the  place.  Many  were  clamoring  to  know 
what  had  happened.  The  judge's  voice  sounded  sud- 
denly. "  Look  out  for  your  prisoner,  Mr.  Sheriff  !  "  he 
exclaimed  sharply  ;  for  the  officer  still  stood  as  if  trans- 
fixed beside  the  dead  man,  on  whose  shoulder  he  had 
laid  hold.  No  hand,  however  heavy,  could  rouse  him 
from  the  slumber  into  which  he  had  fallen. 

The  sheriff  turned  toward  the  prisoner.  The  proud 
mountaineer,  kaanly  sensitive  to  an  indignity,  burst  out 
angry  and  aggrieved.  "  I  hain't  budged  a  paig  !  "  he 
cried.  And  indeed  he  had  not  moved.  "  It 's  jes'  'kase 
you-uns  set  thar  in  jedgmint,  an'  I  hev  ter  set  hyar  an' 
be  tried,  ez  ye  kin  say  sech  ez  that  ter  me !  " 

Harshaw  had  vehemently  clutched  his  client's  arm  as 
a  warning  to  be  silent.  To  his  relief,  he  perceived  that 
G  win  nan  had  not  heard.  He  was  absorbed  in  directing 
a  physician  to  be  called,  and  formally  adjourned  court 
until  nine  o'clock  the  following  morning.  The  reluctant 
jurymen,  quivering  with  excitement  and  consumed  with 
curiosity  as  to  the  subsequent  proceedings,  were  led  off 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  175 

from  the  scene  in  charge  of  an  officer,  —  himself  a  mar- 
tyr to  duty,  —  with  many  an  eager  backward  glance  and 
thought.  The  crowd  hung  around  outside  with  unabated 
excitement.  Often  it  effected  an  entrance  and  surged 
through  the  doors,  to  be  turned  out  again  by  the  orders 
of  the  physicians.  Many  climbed  on  the  window-ledges 
to  look  through.  The  lower  branches  of  the  hickory- 
trees  swarmed  with  the  figures  of  nimble  boys.  The 
wind  now  was  high.  The  boughs  swayed  back  and  forth 
with  a  monotonous  clashing.  Leaves  continually  fell 
from  them  like  the  noiseless  flight  of  birds.  The  moon 
showed  the  pale,  passionless  sky  ;  a  planet  swung  above 
the  distant  mountains,  burning  with  the  steadfast  purity 
of  vestal  fires  ;  the  inequalities  of  the  hills  and  dales  on 
which  the  rugged  little  town  was  built  —  very  dark  be- 
neath the  delicately  illumined  heavens  —  showed  in  the 
undulating  lines  of  lighted  windows,  glimmering  points 
stretching  out  into  the  gloom.  Constantly  the  weighted 
gate  clanged  as  men  trooped  into  the  court-house  yard. 
The  shadows  seemed  to  multiply  the  number  of  the 
crowd. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  cry  :  "  He  's  comin' !  They  're 
bringin'  him  !  He  's  comin' !  " 

The  expectation  had  been  so  strong  that  the  physician 
would  pronounce  it  some  transient  paroxysm  of  the  heart, 
which  he  was  known  to  often  suffer,  that  the  crowd  was 
stricken  into  a  shocked  silence  to  recognize  the  under- 
taker among  the  men  coming  out  and  bearing  a  litter  on 
which  the  motionless  figure  was  stretched.  One  glance 
at  it,  and  there  seemed  nothing  so  inanimate  in  all  na- 
ture. The  moon,  the  trees,  even  the  invisible  wind, 
were  endowed  with  redundant  life,  with  identity,  with 
all  the  affirmations  of  speculation,  of  imagination,  in 
comparison  with  the  terrible  nullity  of  this  thing  that 
once  was  Peter  Rood.  It  expressed  only  a  spare  final- 
ity. 

It  was  strange  to  think  he  could  not  hear  the  wind 
blow,  straight  from  the  mountains,  the  dull  thud  of  the 
many  feet  that  followed  him  through  the  gate  and  down 


176  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

the  street ;  could  not  see  the  moon  which  shone  with  a 
ghastly  gleam  upon  his  stark,  upturned  face.  He  was 
dead! 

He  was  so  dead  that  already  his  world  was  going  on 
with  a  full  acceptation  of  the  idea.  He  had  no  longer 
an  individuality  as  Peter  Rood ;  he  was  only  considered 
as  a  dead  man.  Considered  as  a  dead  man,  he  furnished 
the  judge  with  a  puzzle  which  irritated  him.  Gwinnan 
could  not  remember  any  case  in  which  a  man  had  died 
upon  a  jury,  and  he  debated  within  himself  whether  this 
instance  came  under  the  statute  leaving  it  to  the  discre- 
tion of  the  court,  in  the  case  of  a  sick  juror,  to  discharge 
the  jury  and  order  a  new  one  to  be  impaneled,  or  to  ex- 
cuse the  juror  and  summon  another  in  his  place  from 
the  by-standers.  He  went  into  one  of  the  lawyers'  of- 
fices, and  turned  over  a  few  books  in  search  of  prece- 
dent. 

The  attorney-general  utilized  the  respite.  He  had 
lingered  at  the  scene  for  a  time,  animated  by  curiosity. 
But  when  one  of  the  physicians  who  had  been  summoned 
to  the  court-house,  returned  to  his  office,  after  the  vain 
efforts  to  resuscitate  the  man,  he  found  the  attorney  for 
the  State  seated  before  the  wood  fire,  his  hands  clasped 
behind  his  head,  his  feet  stretched  out  upon  the  hearth, 
his  chair  tilted  back  upon  its  hind  legs,  waiting  for  him 
in  comfortable  patience. 

There  was  no  carpet  on  the  floor.  The  small  windows 
were  lighted  by  tiny  panes  of  glass.  The  hearth  was 
broken  in  many  places,  but  painted  a  bright  red  with  a 
neat  home-made  varnish  of  powdered  bricks  mixed  with 
milk,  commonly  used  in  the  country.  There  were  sev- 
eral splint-bottomed  chairs,  an  easy-chair,  and  one  or 
two  tables ;  book-cases  covered  the  walls  from  the  floor 
to  the  ceiling.  It  was  the  doctor's  professional  opinion 
that  tobacco  was  the  ruin  of  the  country ;  on  the  high 
mantelpiece  were  ranged  several  varieties  of  pipe,  from 
the  plebeian  cob  and  brier-root  to  the  meerschaum  pre- 
sented by  a  grateful  patient,  all  bearing  evidences  of 
much  use. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  177 

Kenbigh  looked  up  quietly  as  the  owner  of  the  appro- 
priated quarters  walked  in.  Dr.  Lloyd  was  a  tall,  spare 
man  of  sixty  odd,  with  a  back  that  never  bent,  dressed 
punctiliously  in  black  broadcloth  and  the  most  immacu- 
late linen  of  an  old-fashioned  style.  His  thick  hair  was 
white.  He  wore  a  stiff  .  mustache  ;  his  shaven  chin  was 
square  and  resolute  ;  his  features  were  singularly  straight. 
His  gray  eye  expressed  great  cleverness  and  goodness, 
but  there  was  a  refined  sarcasm  in  the  curl  of  his  lips, 
and  he  affected  a  blunt  indifference  of  manner,  not  to 
say  brusqueness. 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  doctor,  —  nothing  with  my  vitals,  or  I 
would  n't  have  trusted  myself  near  you.  The  instinct  of 
self-preservation  is  strong.  I  have  come  for  some  infor- 
mation." 

"  An  aching  void  in  the  regions  of  your  brain,  eh  ? 
Well,  at  your  time  of  life  that 's  incurable." 

"  I  want  you,"  said  the  lawyer,  his  eyes  roaming 
around  the  medical  library,  ranged  upon  the  wall,  with 
a  gloating,  gluttonous  gleam  at  the  idea  of  the  feast  of  in- 
formation within  the  covers  of  the  volumes,  "  to  lecture 
me,  doctor." 

"  Where  's  your  Medical  Jurisprudence  ?  " 

"  It  does  n't  teach  me  all  I  want  to  know  about 
ghosts." 

Surprise  was  something  Dr.  Lloyd  was  never  known 
to  express  or  imply.  He  sat  looking  at  the  visitor  with 
his  calm  professional  eye,  as  if  it  were  the  most  habitual 
thing  in  the  world  for  sane  lawyers  to  come  into  his  of- 
fice at  night,  wanting  to  know  about  ghosts. 

"  I  want  to  know  all  about  absurd  illusions,  —  in  peo- 
ple of  undoubted  sanity." 

"  Subject  of  some  scope,"  dryly  remarked  the  doctor. 

"  I  want  to  know  all  that  you  know  about  hallucina- 
tions, visions.  I  want  an  elaborate  exposition  of  the  vis- 
ual apparatus  as  connected  with  the  brain,  and  of  the  de- 
rangement of  its  nervous  functions." 

"  Upon  my  word,  you  're  a  pretty  fellow !  " 


178  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  And  then  I  want  you  to  lend  me  all  your  books." 
And  once  more  he  gazed  around  on  the  coveted  treasures 
of  the  shelves. 

One  of  the  great  logs  had  burned  in  two,  the  chunks 
falling  forward  upon  the  other  blazing  sticks.  The  doc- 
tor had  made  a  move  toward  the  tongs,  but  the  lawyer 
arose,  and  with  a  sort  of  cumbrous  agility  kicked  first 
one  and  then  the  other  into  the  space  between  the  dogs. 
Dr.  Lloyd  watched  this  proceeding  with  silent  disap- 
proval. Far  be  it  from  him  to  put  his  dapper  old-fash- 
ioned foot-gear  to  any  such  purpose. 

The  warmth  of  the  fire  was  grateful,  for  it  had  grown 
much  colder  without.  The  wind  surged  down  the  street 
like  the  passing  of  many  feet,  some  tumultuous  human 
rush.  The  fir-tree  beside  the  door  was  filled  with  voices, 
sibilant  whisperings,  sighs.  Clouds  were  scudding  through 
the  sky ;  Kenbigh  could  see  them  from  where  he  sat  lis- 
tening to  the  doctor's  monologue.  The  moonlight  lay 
on  the  old-fashioned  garden  without,  all  pillaged  by  the 
autumn  winds,  —  the  rose-bushes  but  leafless  wands  ;  the 
arbors,  naked  trellises  ;  the  walks,  laid  off  with  rectangu- 
lar precision,  showing  what  the  symmetry  of  its  summer 
guise  had  been,  as  a  skeleton  might  suggest  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  human  form.  The  lights  in  the  two-story 
frame  house  beyond  —  for  the  doctor's  office  was  in  the 
yard  of  his  dwelling  and  the  garden  lay  a  little  to  the 
rear  —  were  extinguished  one  by  one.  A  dog  close  by 
barked  for  a  time,  with  echoes  from  the  hills  and  depres- 
sions, and  then  fell  to  howling  mournfully.  The  doctor 
talked  on,  now  and  then  taking  down  the  books  to  illus- 
trate ;  marking  the  passages  with  a  neat  strip  of  paper  in 
lieu  of  turning  down  a  leaf,  as  Kenbigh  seemed  disposed 
to  do.  He  piled  the  volumes  beside  his  apt  pupil  on  the 
candle-stand,  and  as  the  lawyer  fell  to  at  them  he  him- 
self read  for  a  time,  as  a  light  recreation,  from  a  history 
in  some  twelve  volumes.  To  a  country  gentleman  of 
ample  leisure  and  bookish  habit,  this  lengthy  work  was 
but  as  a  mouthful. 

Dr.  Lloyd  rose  at  last,  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  .179 

pipe  upon  the  head  of  one  of  the  fire-dogs,  glanced  at 
the  absorbed  lawyer,  and  remarked,  "  You  11  come  over 
to  my  house  to  go  to  bed  after  a  little  more,  won't  you?" 

"  Reckon  so,"  responded  Kenbigh,  without  lifting  his 
head. 

The  fire  flared  up  the  chimney  in  great  white  flames ; 
they  emanated  from  a  lustrous,  restless,  pulsing  red 
heart.  The  sparks  flew.  The  faint  and  joyous  sounds 
from  the  logs  were  like  some  fine  fairy  minstrelsy  which 
one  is  hardly  sure  one  hears.  A  sylvan  fragrance  came 
from  the  pile  of  wood  in  the  corner,  the  baskets  of  chips, 
the  pine  knots. 

The  doctor  left  the  room,  opened  the  door  and  looked 
back. 

"  Don't  you  set  the  house  afire  and  burn  up  these 
books,"  he  said,  with  the  first  touch  of  feeling  in  his 
tones  that  night. 

The  results  of  the  attorney-general's  vigil  were  abun- 
dantly manifest  in  his  speech  to  the  jury  the  following 
day.  For  that  body  was  recruited  by  summoning  another 
talesman  in  Rood's  place,  and  the  trial  perforce  began 
anew;  Gwinnan  apparently  thinking  this  alternative 
served  better  the  ends  of  justice  than  to  risk  the  delays 
and  vicissitudes  of  again  securing  a  competent  jury. 
This  decision  encouraged  Mink,  who  had  been  tortured 
by  the  fear  that  by  some  disaster  the  case  would  be  con- 
tinued to  the  next  term.  He  was  not  now  greatly  per- 
turbed by  the  strange  turn  which  the  attorney-general 
had  contrived  to  give  to  Alethea's  testimony.  Since 
Harshaw  had  found  that  any  one  claimed  to  have  seen 
Tad  after  the  report  of  the  boy's  death  he  had  felt  con- 
fident of  an  acquittal,  laying  much  stress  on  the  neces- 
sity of  proving  the  corpus  delicti,  as  he  phrased  it ;  and 
Mink  accepted  his  lawyer's  opinion  and  relied  upon  it. 
He  had  not  been  greatly  affected  by  Rood's  fate,  so 
absorbed  was  he  by  his  own  interests  ;  but  it  was  a 
moment  of  tense  excitement  when  the  testimony  again 
reached  the  juncture  at  which,  on  the  preceding  day, 
the  unfortunate  juror  had  leaned  forward  and  pointed  at 


180,  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

the  witness,  his  question  failing  on  his  lips  in  the  dumb- 
ness of  death.  Nothing  further  was  elicited  from  Ale- 
thea  except  that  she  did  believe  in  ghosts,  but  that  she 
was  sure  she  had  seen  Tad  alive,  albeit  he  had  stood 
among  the  graves  with  a  blanched  face,  disappearing  in  a 
moment,  lost  in  the  mist. 

The  whole  testimony  occupied  much  less  time  than  on 
the  previous  day,  and  as  the  afternoon  progressed  it 
began  to  be  apparent  that  the  case  would  go  to  the- jury 
before  the  court  adjourned. 

The  surprise  of  the  day  was  the  speech  of  the  attor- 
ney-general. It  opened  simply  enough.  He  sought  to 
show  that  it  was  impossible  for  Tad  to  be  alive.  The 
poor  boy  was  doubtless  at  the  bottom  of  the  river.  How 
could  it  be  otherwise  ?  Assume,  as  his  learned  opponent 
would  have  them  believe,  that  he  had  swurn  ashore. 
Where  was  he  now  ?  The  suggestion  that  he  was  in 
the  custody  of  some  enemy  of  the  prisoner,  who  sought 
by  concealing  him  to  effect  the  incarceration  of  Reuben 
Lorey  in  the  penitentiary  for  a  long  term,  was  so  absurd 
that  he  hesitated  to  argue  such  a  foolish  position  before 
so  intelligent  a  body  of  men  as  the  jury  whom  he  had 
the  pleasure  of  addressing.  Who  would,  for  revenge, 
encounter  the  hazards  of  such  a  scheme  ?  The  boy  was 
as  well  known  throughout  the  section  as  Piomingo  Bald. 
Any  chance  glimpse  of  him  by  a  casual  visitor  would 
fling  the  conspirators  themselves  into  the  clutches  of  the 
law,  that  would  be  loath  to  lightly  loose  its  hold  on  such 
rascals.  Who  would  voluntarily  burden  themselves  with 
the  support  of  an  idiot  ?  If  anybody  had  found  Tad, 
he  would  have  been  mighty  quick  to  carry  the  boy  back 
to  old  man  Griff.  Say  that  no  one  had  detained  him, — 
what  then  ?  He  was  an  idiot,  incapable  of  taking  care 
of  himself.  If  he  were  wandering  at  large,  starving, 
half  clad,  would  not  some  one  have  seen  him  besides 
Alethea  Sayles,  in  all  these  weeks,  gentlemen,  in  all 
these  months  ?  It  was  a  remarkable  story  that  the  wit- 
ness had  told,  —  a  remarkable  story.  (The  counsel 
seemed  to  find  fit  expression  of  his  sense  of  its  solemnity 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  181 

by  sinking  his  basso  prof  undo  to  a  thunderous  mutter.) 
No  one  for  a  moment  could  doubt  the  sanity  of  that 
witness.  She  was  evidently  a  girl  of  fine  common  sense  ; 
an  excellent  girl,  too,  —  no  one  could  for  a  moment 
doubt  the  truth  of  any  word  she  uttered.  The  fact  was, 
Alethea  Sayles  saw  a  strange  thing  that  night.  She 
thought  she  saw  Tad.  It  was  only  his  image,  not  him- 
self. "  The  forlorn  boy  is  dead,  gentlemen,"  he  con- 
tinued. "  She  saw  the  fantasy  of  her  own  anxious, 
overwrought  brain.  He  was  in  her  mind.  She  had 
pondered  long  upon  him,  and  upon  the  plight  of  her 
lover,  who  had  kilhed  him.  What  wonder,  then,  that  in 
the  mist,  and  the  flickering  moonlight,  and  the  lonely 
midnight,  she  should  fancy  that  she  saw  him ! ' 

He  told  the  gaping  and  amazed  jury  that  this  was  not 
an  isolated  instance.  He  mentioned  other  victims  of 
hallucination ;  he  detailed  the  strange  experiences  of 
Nicolai,  of  Spinoza,  of  Dr.  Bostock,  of  Lord  London- 
derry, of  Baron  de  Ge'ramb,  of  Leuret,  of  Lord  Brougham. 

Harshaw,  who  had  sat  listening,  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets  and  his  legs  crossed,  a  smile  of  ostentatious  de- 
rision upon  his  face,  grew  grave  upon  the  mention  of  the 
last  name.  He  had  never  heard  of  the  others,  but  to 
attempt  to  bolster  a  theory  of  spectral  apparition  by  this 
name,  revered  in  the  profession,  was,  he  felt,  a  juridical 
sacrilege  that  should  cause  the  attorney-general  to  be  at 
the  very  least  stricken  from  the  rolls. 

As  Kenbigh  \vent  on,  expounding  the  relative  and  in- 
terdependent functions  of  the  brain  and  eye,  the  fine  and 
subtle  theories  of  spiritual  and  physical  life,  its  vague 
boundaries,  its  unmeasured  capabilities,  —  the  deduc- 
tions, the  keen  analysis  of  science,  all  reduced  to  the 
vernacular  in  the  mouth  of  a  man  trained  by  years  of 
practice  to  speak  to  the  people,  —  Harshaw  sat  in  blank 
dismay.  He  had  never  heard  of  any  spiritual  manifes- 
tation but  the  vulgar  graveyard  ghost,  usually  headless, 
stalking  in  its  shroud  to  accomplish  missions  of  ven- 
geance upon  the  very  ignorant  in  the  deep  midnight. 
But  Kenbigh's  account  of  sundry  ethereal-minded  and 


182  JN  THE   CLOUDS. 

mild-mannered  spectres,  with  a  preference  for  high  com- 
pany, singing,  appearing  at  dinner-tables,  conversing 
agreeably,  arrayed  in  conventional  garb,  as  decorous  and 
reasonable  and  as  mindful  of  etiquette  as  if  still  bound 
by  all  the  restraints  of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the 
devil,  disappearing  as  noiselessly  as  they  had  come,  with 
no  appreciable  result  of  the  visit,  —  it  shocked  every 
sense  of  precedent  within  him.  He  was  country-bred 
and  did  not  know  that  when  ghosts  are  fashionable 
they  conduct  themselves  as  fashionable  people  do.  He 
noted  keenly  the  discrepancies  in  the  scientific  explana- 
tions. Always,  despite  its  show  of  learning,  its  systems, 
its  terminology,  its  physiology,  its  psychology,  and  its 
persistent  reference  of  supernatural  appearances  to  nat- 
ural causes,  Reason  retires  from  the  spectral  exhibition 
with  some  admission  of  occult  influences,  not  fully  under- 
stood, —  in  effect  making  a  bow  to  the  ghost  in  question, 
"  Saving  your  presence."  He  noticed,  too,  that  the  jury 
were  listening  with  that  intentness  and  eager  interest 
which  characterize  every  mind,  even  the  most  ignorant, 
in  considering  things  of  the  other  world,  manifestations 
of  hidden  agencies.  When  he  rose  to  reply  he  felt  at  a 
loss.  The  sound,  however,  of  his  own  hearty  voice  ring- 
ing against  the  walls,  instead  of  the  sepulchral  basso 
profundo  of  the  attorney  for  the  State,  the  motion  of  his 
own  stalwart  arm  sawing  the  air,  —  for  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  impressing  his  views  with  a  good  deal  of  mus- 
cular exertion,  —  had  an  invigorating  effect  upon  him, 
and  brought  him  back  to  his  normal  state  of  confidence 
and  bluster.  He  found  words  for  his  ready  scorn.  He 
sought  to  discredit  the  attorney  -  general's  phantoms. 
He  did  not  know  where  the  counsel  got  these  old  women's 
tales ;  they  were  an  insult  to  the  intelligence  of  the  jury. 
The  learned  counsel  knew  mighty  well  he  was  n't  going 
to  be  caRed  upon  for  his  authorities,  —  medical  books 
can't  be  produced  as  evidence  in  a  court  of  justice,  much 
less  ghost  stories,  "  Raw-head  and  bloody-bones  "  !  For 
his  own  part,  he  did  n't  believe  a  word  of  them.  A  fact 
is  a  thing  that  can  be  proved.  The  law  requires  authen- 
tication. "  Henry  Brougham.  Lord  Chancellor,  saw 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  183 

visions,  did  he?  And  may  be  Lord  Coke  dreamed 
dreams,"  he  sneered  indignantly.  "And  Lord  Mans- 
field perchance  walked  in  his  sleep.  And  who  knows 
they  did?  And  what  drivel  is  this!  Gentlemen,  we 
live  in  the  nineteenth  century !  " 

The  aspersion  of  Lord  Brougham  —  for  thus  he  con- 
sidered the  anecdote  —  was  very  bitter  to  him.  He  was 
a  man  of  few  enthusiasms,  and  such  hero-worship  as  was 
possible  to  him  had  been  expended  upon  the  great  lights 
of  his  profession  whose  acquaintance  he  had  formed  in 
his  early  reading  of  law,  some  twenty  years  ago.  He  so 
dwelt  upon  this  point  that  the  jury  received  the  valuable 
impression  that  Henry  Brougham  was  a  chancellor  and 
a  "  valley  man,"  hailing  from  Knoxville,  perhaps,  and 
was  held  in  high  esteem  by  the  lawyers  in  Shaftesville, 
and  that  Havshaw  seemed  to  think  the  attorney-general 
had  slandered  him.  He  wrenched  himself  from  this 
phase  of  the  subject  with  some  difficulty.  "  Gentlemen," 
he  said  sarcastically,  "  the  attorney-general  is  a  mighty 
smart  man.  He  's  got  a  heap  of  learning  lately  about 
visions."  He  glanced  down  obliquely  at  his  opponent ; 
he  would  have  given  a  good  deal  to  know  how  the  coun- 
sel for  the  State  came  by  his  information.  He  could 
have  sworn  that  it  was  not  indigenous.  "  But  there  are 
plenty  of  folks  in  this  town  could  have  told  him  just  as 
much  and  more.  He  's  mighty  particular  to  show  the 
difference  between  ^7-lusion  and  rfe-lusion,  and  hallucina- 
tion and  mania.  Visions !  That  ain't  what  we  call  'em, 
gentlemen.  Down  here  in  the  flat  woods  we  call  'em  — 
4  snakes  '  !  "  The  hit  told,  and  he  went  on,  encouraged. 
"  Right  over  yonder  in  Tim  Becker's  saloon  they  keep 
every  assortment  of  vision.  Men  have  seen  green  rabbits 
there,  and  black  dogs,  and  snakes,  and  whole  menageries 
of  hallucinations.  Is  anybody  going  to  believe  Alethea 
Sayles  had  the  jim-jams  that  night,  coming  from  camp- 
meeting  ?  She  had  no  call  to  see  visions  !  This  girl 
had  her  head  in  her  hands  ;  she  was  leaning  on  the 
fence ;  sfte  felt  some  one  touch  her ;  she  looked  up,  and 
saw  the  boy  before  her.  Mighty  few  of  the  ghosts  that 
we  have  heard  of  had  such  consistency  of  entity  as  to 


184  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

make  their  presence  perceived  by  the  sense  of  touch ;  on 
the  contrary,  it  is  thus  that  their  unreality  is  often  de- 
monstrated in  these  same  fables.  A  lady  passes  her  fan 
through  one  immaterial  image.  A  man  thrusts  his  knife 
vainly  into  the  misty  heart  of  another.  And  why  does 
this  instance  differ  ?  Because,  gentlemen,  there  was  no 
phantom.  It  was  Tad  Simpkins  in  flesh  and  blood.  The 
fugitive  boy  sees  Alethea  Sayles,  whom  he  knows  well ; 
he  is  about  to  appeal  to  her  ;  he  lays  his  hand  on  her 
hand.  She  lifts  her  head,  and  at  the  unexpected  appa- 
ri  —  sight,  she  screams,  and  the  foolish  boy  is  frightened, 
and  flees !  " 

He  went  on  to  say  that  he  would  impose  upon  the  pa- 
tience of  this  court  and  jury  only  for  a  few  moments 
longer.  He  wanted  to  contradict  the  statements  of  the 
attorney-general  that  no  one  would  voluntarily  burden 
himself  with  the  support  of  a  useless  member  of  society. 
"  How  many  yaller  dogs  at  your  houses,  gentlemen  ? 
I  'd  be  afraid  to  count  how  many  at  mine.  How  many 
of  your  wife's  relations  ?  No,  gentlemen,  none  of  us  are 
so  rich  in  this  world's  goods  as  we  deserve  to  be,  but  we 
ain't  got  down  to  dividing  bread  and  meat  that  close  yet. 
As  to  the  reckless  crime  of  keeping  the  boy  in  hiding  in 
order  to  put  Mink  Lorey  in  the  penitentiary  for  invol- 
untary manslaughter,  —  why,  gentlemen,  if  there  were 
not  just  such  reckless  people  continually  committing 
crimes,  the  consequences  of  which  they  cannot  escape, 
the  attorney-general  and  I  would  have  nothing  to  do. 
We  'd  have  to  suck  our  paws  for  a  living,  like  a  bear  in 
the  winter,  and  look  at  one  another,  —  a  profitless  en- 
tertainment, gentlemen." 

He  sat  down,  his  pink  smile  enlivening  his  counte- 
nance, well  satisfied  with  his  efforts  and  with  the  pros- 
pects of  the  case. 

The  attorney-general,  who  had  the  last  word,  was  very 
brief  in  saying  it.  The  judge  charged  the  jury,  and  he, 
too,  was  brief.  The  long  slant  of  sunshine  falling  athwart 
the  room  was  reddening  when  the  jury  were  led  out  by 
the  officer  to  their  deliberations,  noisily  ascending  the 
stairs  to  the  jury-room  above,  assigned  to  their  use. 


XIII. 

THEY  slouched  into  their  lair,  looking  more  like  of- 
fenders detained  against  their  will  than  the  free  and  en- 
lightened citizens  of  a  great  country  in  the  exercise  of 
the  precious  privilege  of  serving  on  the  jury.  They  were 
all  tired.  They  had  undergone  much  excitement.  They 
felt  the  mental  strain  of  the  arguments  and  counter- 
arguments to  which  they  had  listened. 

"  It  hev  fairly  gin  me  a  mis'ry  in  my  head  ter  hev  ter 
hear  ter  them  red-mouthed  lawyers  jaw  an'  jaw,  like 
they  done  !  "  exclaimed  one,  flinging  himself  in  a  chair, 
and  putting  his  feet  up  against  the  round  sides  of  the 
stove,  which  was  cold  and  fireless,  the  day  being  warm 
and  genial.  The  windows  were  open,  the  sunlight 
streaming  over  the  dusty  floor  and  chairs  and  benches. 
Two  or  three  of  the  jurymen,  looking  out,  laughing,  and 
making  signs  to  the  people  in  the  streets,  were  smartly 
remonstrated  with  by  the  officer  in  charge. 

His  objections  had  the  effect  of  congregating  them  in 
the  middle  of  the  room,  where  the  discussion  began,  most 
of  them  lighting  their  pipes,  and  tilting  their  chairs  on 
the  hind  legs.  Two  or  three  lifted  their  feet  to  the  giddy 
eminence  of  the  backs  of  other  chairs ;  several  stretched 
themselves  at  lank,  ungainly  length  upon  the  benches. 
They  were  mostly  young  or  middle-aged  men ;  the  sen- 
ior of  the  party  being  a  farmer  of  fifty,  with  a  pointed, 
shaven  chin,  newly  sprouting  with  a  bristly  beard,  over 
which  he  often  passed  his  hand  with  a  meditative  ges- 
ture. His  eyes  were  downcast ;  he  leaned  his  elbows  on 
his  knees ;  his  mien  was  depressed,  not  to  say  afflicted. 
"  I  ain't  hearn  ten  words  together,"  he  remarked.  u  I 
never  knowed  when  they  lef'  off,  sca'cely,  bein'  so  all- 


186  TN  THE   CLOUDS. 

fired  oneasy  an'  beset  'bout  them  cattle  o'  mine."  He 
turned  to  explain  to  the  new  juror  whom  they  had  taken 
on  that  morning.  "  Ben  Doaks  hed  my  cattle  a-sum- 
merin'  of  'em  up  on  Piomingo  Bald,  an'  when  the  cattle 
war  rounded  up  I  went  thar  ter  pick  out  mine,  an'  I 
druv  'em  down  an'  got  ez  far  ez  Shaftesville,  an'  I  let 
'em  go  on  with  Bob,  my  son,  'bout  fifteen  year  old.  An' 
I  stopped  hyar  ter  git  a  drink  an'  hear  a  leetle  news. 
An'  durned  ef  they  did  n't  ketch  me  on  the  jury !  An' 
Bob  dunno  what 's  kem  o'  me,  an'  I  dunno  what 's  kem 
o'  Bob  an'  the  cattle,  nor  how  fur  they  hed  traveled 
along  the  road  'fore  they  fund  out  I  war  n't  comin'  ar- 
ter." 

"Waal,  I  reckon  they  be  all  right,"  said  the  new  man, 
a  hunter  from  the  mountains,  just  come  into  town  with 
game  to  sell. 

"  Lord  knows  !  I  don't !  "  said  the  old  fellow,  sighing 
over  the  futility  of  speculation.  "  Ef  Bob  war  ter  draw 
the  idee  ez  I  got  hurt,  or  robbed,  or  scrimmagin'  in  them 
town  grog-shops,  —  I  hev  always  been  tellin'  him  a  all- 
fired  pack  o'  lies  'bout  the  dangers  in  sech  places,  bein' 
ez  I  war  n't  willin'  ter  let  him  go  whar  I  'd  go  myself, — 
he  'd  leave  them  cattle  a-standin'  thar  in  the  road,  an' 
kem  back  ter  town  ter  s'arch  fur  me.  He  hain't  got 
much  'speriunce,  an'  he  ain't  ekal  ter  keerin'  fur  them 
cattle.  They  '11  stray,  an'  I  '11  never  see  'em  agin." 

"  I  reckon  they  hev  strayed  back  ter  the  mountings 
by  this  time ;  must  be  wilder  'n  bucks,  ef  they  hev  been 
out  all  summer,"  suggested  a  broad-faced  twinkling-eyed 
young  fellow,  with  a  jocose  wink  at  the  others. 

"Bob  dozes,  too;  sorter  sleepy-headed,  ye  know,"  said 
the  old  man,  taking  note  of  all  the  contingencies.  "  I 
hev  seen  him  snooze  in  the  saddle,  ef  the  cattle  war  slow. 
He  's  growin',  an'  runs  mighty  hard,  an'  ef  he  sets  still, 
he  falls  off.  Ef  he  got  tired,  he  's  apt  ter  lie  down  in  a 
fence-corner  ter  rest ;  an'  he  mought  go  ter  sleep  thar, 
an'  somebody  mought  toll  the  cattle  off.  Or  else  he 
mought  ax  somebody  ter  keer  fur  the  cattle  till  he  could 
kem  back  an'  find  me.  Lord  A'mighty,  thar  's  no 
yearthly  tellin'  what  Bob  mought  do  !  " 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  187 

"  Then,  again,  he  mought  n't,"  said  Jerry  Price.  "  Ye 
hev  jes'  got  ter  gin  up  yer  hold  on  worldly  things  when 
ye  air  on  a  jury,  like  ye  war  dead." 

"  Yes  ;  but  when  ye  air  dead  ye  ain't  able  ter  be  pes- 
tered by  studyin'  'bout  what  yer  administrator  air  a-doin' 
with  yer  yearthly  chattels  an'  cattle." 

"  How  d'  ye  know  ?  "  demanded  Price.  "  Arter  all 
we  he  am  ter-day,  a  body  mought  b'lieve  a  real  likely 
harnt  air  ekal  ter  enny thing  in  motion  an'  looks,  an'  ye 
dunno  what  they  air  studyin'  'bout.  But  time 's  a-wastin'. 
'Less  we  air  wantin'  ter  bide  hyar  all  night  agin,  we  hed 
better  be  talkin'  'bout  our  verdict  on  Mink  Lorey.  The 
jedge  's  waitin',  an'  from  all  I  hev  seen  o'  him  he  ain't 
handy  at  patience." 

"  Waal,  sir,"  said  the  man  with  his  feet  on  the  stove, 
who  was  the  foreman  of  the  jury,  taking  his  pipe  from 
his  mouth,  "  I  ain't  settin'  much  store  on  Gwinnan.  I 
don't  b'lieve  he  acted  right  an'  'cordin'  ter  law  about  this 
jury.  Thar  's  thirteen  men  on  this  jury !  " 

They  all  sat  motionless,  staring  at  him. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  he  declared,  reinserting  his  pipe  between 
his  teeth,  and  speaking  with  them  closed  upon  it.  "  I 
know  the  law  !  My  uncle  war  a  jestice  o'  the  peace  fur 
six  year,  'bout  ten  year  ago.  An'  he  hed  a  Code  o'  Ten- 
nessee !  An'  I  read  in  it !  Some  mighty  interestin' 
readin'  in  the  Code  o'  Tennessee.  Sure  's  ye  born,  thar 
is  !  The  law  say  the  juror,  ef  he  be  ailin',  kin  be  ex- 
cused, an'  another  summonsed.  But  Peter  Rood  war  n't 
excused,  nor  discharged  nuther.  He 's  on  this  jury 
yit." 

"  Waal,  fur  Gawd's  sake,  don't  git  ter  jawin'  'bout 
Peter  Rood  !  "  cried  Bylor,  the  man  on  whose  chair  the 
dead  juror  had  fallen,  and  who  had  turned  his  face  to 
the  close  encounter  of  the  stare  of  death  in  those  glassy 
eyes.  Bylor's  nerves  were  still  unstrung.  He  looked  as 
ill  as  a  broad-shouldered,  sunburned,  brawny  fellow  could 
look.  "  I  never  slep'  a  wink  las'  night ;  an'  that  thar 
cussed  'torney-gineral  a-tellin'  them  awful  tales  'bout 
harnts  all  day,  an'  that  thar  solemn  Lethe  Sayles  pur- 


188  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

tendin'  she  hed  seen  that  drownded  id  jit,  — I  felt  ez  ef 
I  'd  fall  down  in  a  fit  ef  they  did  n't  quit  it." 

"  I  don't  b'lieve  she  seen  Tad's  harnt,"  said  Ben 
Doaks,  instinctively  adopting  her  view. 

"  Then  what  war  it  in  the  graveyard  fur  ?  "  demanded 
the  foreman  conclusively. 

There  was  momentary  silence.  The  sunshine  was  dy- 
ing out  on  the  floor ;  the  dim  tracery  of  the  boughs  of 
the  hickory-tree  was  the  only  manifestation  of  its  pres- 
ence. The  rural  sound  of  the  lowing  of  cattle  came  in 
on  the  soft  air,  —  the  village  kine  were  returning  from 
their  pastures.  The  voices  of  men  in  the  rooms  below 
rose  and  fell  fitfully ;  they  were  trying  another  case,  in 
the  interim  of  waiting  for  the  verdict. 

"  An'  how  kem  nobody  hev  seen  him  sence,  'ceptin' 
Lethe  Sayles  ?  "  he  supplemented  his  question. 

'"The  jedge  hinted  ez  much  ez  we-uns  oughter  be 
powerful  keerful  o'  not  convictin'  a  man  fur  killin',  when 
a  witness  claimed  ter  hev  seen  the  dead  one  sence,"  ar- 
gued Jerry  Price,  ambiguously. 

"  She  never  seen  nuthin'  but  his  ghost,"  said  the  fore- 
man. 

**  Ben,  how'd  that  leetle  red  cow  o'  mine  git  her  hawn 
bruk  ?  "  interpolated  the  bereaved  cattle-owner,  meditat- 
ing on  the  vicissitudes  experienced  by  his  herds  in  their 
summer  vacation. 

"  Gawd  A'mighty,  man,  quit  talkin'  'bout  yer  cattle, 
interruptin'  we-uns  jes'  ez  we  war  a-gittin'  ter  the  p'int !  " 
exclaimed  the  foreman. 

"  I  'd  heap  ruther  hear  Mr.  Beanies  talk  'bout  his  cat- 
tle 'n  hear  'bout  harnts,  an'  sech,"  said  By  lor,  as  he  lay 
on  the  bench.  He  was  still  feeling  far  from  well.  He 
got  up  presently,  and  went  to  the  officer,  who  was  at  the 
door,  and  petitioned  for  sometbing  to  drink.  But  that 
worthy,  determined  upon  the  literal  performance  of  duty, 
withstood  his  every  persuasion,  even  when  he  declared 
he  was  "  plumb  sick  ; "  and  the  rest  of  the  jury,  alarmed 
lest  he  should  be  excused,  another  juror  summoned,  and 
the  whole  performance  of  the  trial  begin  anew,  the  agony 


7AT  THE   CLOUDS.  189 

of  their  detention  thus  lengthening  indefinitely,  pleaded 
for  him.  The  officer's  devotion  to  what  he  considered 
his  duty  did  not  save  him  from  some  abuse. 

"  'T  would  sarve  ye  right  ef  we  war  ter  lay  a-holt  o' 
ye  an'  fling  ye  outer  this  winder,"  said  Ben  Doaks. 

"Ye  mis'able  leetle  green  gourd,  ye  dunno  nuthin' 
'bout  nuthin',"  declared  the  foreman,  the  much  informed 
because  of  the  Code. 

"  Waal,  ye  kin  say  what  ye  wan  ter,"  retorted  the  offi- 
cial. He  was  a  young  man ;  he  had  a  resolute  eye  and 
a  shock  head.  "  But  ye  ain't  goin'  ter  git  out'n  here  till 
ye  find  yer  verdict."  He  withdrew  his  tousled  head  sud- 
denly, and  shut  the  door  on  them. 

Rebellion  availing  nothing,  they  resorted  to  faction. 

"  Ye  need  n't  be  so  powerful  techy  'bout  harnts ;  ye 
ain't  seen  none  ez  I  knows  on,"  said  the  foreman,  turn- 
ing upon  the  sick  juror. 

u  Naw,  an'  I  don't  wanter  hear  'bout  none  o'  'em  till 
my  stommick  feels  stronger." 

"  Shucks !  that  air  nuthin'  oncommon,  seein'  harnts 
an'  sech.  Plenty  o'  folks  hev  seen  the  same  one.  Thar  's 
ever  so  many  o'  them  herders  on  Thunderhead  hev  seen 
the  harnt  ez  herds  up  thar.  Rob  Carrick  seen  him.  I 
have  hearn  him  tell  'bout'n  it  arter  he  got  his  mind  back. 
Hain't  you,  Ben  ?  " 

The  moon  was  at  the  eastern  windows.  The  white 
lustre  poured  in.  The  great  room  seemed  lonely  and 
deserted,  despite  the  group  of  deliberating  jurymen,  and 
the  colorless  double  with  which  each  had  been  furnished, 
to  ape  his  gesture,  and  caricature  his  size,  and  dog  his 
every  step.  An  owl  was  hooting  in  some  distant  tree. 
The  voices  from  the  street  were  faint.  • 

"  Ain't  that  thar  weasel  of  a  constable  goin'  ter  hev 
no  lamps  brung  hyar  ter-night  ?  "  exclaimed  By  lor. 

But  the  lamps  which  came  in  almost  immediately  were 
inadequate  to  contend  with  the  solemn,  ethereal,  white 
pervasion  of  the  night  that  still  hung  in  the  window,  and 
lay  upon  the  floor,  and  showed  the  gaunt  bare  tree  out- 
side. They  only  gave  a  yellow  cast  to  the  circle  in 


190  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

which  the  party  sat,  and  made  their  faces  seem  less 
pallid  and  unnatural. 

"  Yes,  I  hev  hearn  Carrick  tell  it  a  many  a  time.  He 
used  ter  herd  with  Josh  Nixon  in  life."  Ben  Doaks 
paused  a  moment.  "  I  seen  the  Herder  wunst  myse'f , 
though  I  never  felt  right  sure  about  it  till  ter-night.  I 
'lowed  I  mought  jes'  hev  fancied  it." 

"  What  made  ye  sure  'bout  it  ter-night  ?  "  demanded 
Bylor,  starting  up  from  the  bench. 

"  'Count  o'  what  the  'torney-gineral  said  'bout  helluci- 
nation.  I  know  now  ez  't  war  a  vision  sent  from  hell, 
an'  I  reckon  that  air  one  reason  I  hev  fund  it  air  so 
hard  ter  git  religion.  My  mind  hev  got  too  much  in 
league  with  Satan." 

"  Waal,  Carrick  'lowed  ez  Josh  Nixon  kem  back  from 
hell  ter  herd  on  Thunderhead  'kase  all  his  bones  war  n't 
buried  tergether,"  said  the  foreman. 

"  Law,  Ben,"  broke  out  the  owner  of  cattle,  "  I  wonder 
ef  them  beef  bones  we  seen  on  the  top  o'  Piomingo  Bald 
war  n't  the  bones  o'  that  thai*  leetle  black  heifer  o'  mine 
ez  could  n't  be  fund,  an'  ye  'lowed  mus'  hev  been  eat  by 
a  wolf." 

"  I  knocked  off  the  vally  o'  that  thar  heifer  in  our 
settlin'  up,  an'  I  hed  hoped  ter  hear  no  mo'  o'  her  in 
this  mortal  life !  "  cried  Ben  Doaks,  lifting  his  voice 
from  the  bated  undertone  in  which  he  had  discussed  the 
spectral  phenomena  to  an  indignant  worldly  resonance. 
"  I  did  n't  know  ez  ye  branded  yer  beastis  on  her  bones," 
sarcastically ;  "  the  las'  time  I  seen  her  she  war  too  fat 
ter  show  'em.  I  never  looked  fur  yer  mark  on  them 
bones  on  the  bald." 

"  Waal,"  said  a  slow,  measured  voice,  with  that  un- 
natural tone  one  has  in  speaking  to  one's  self,  "  Tad  hev 
got  no  call  ter  kem  back." 

"  Who  air  ye  a-talkin'  ter  ?  "  cried  Bylor,  starting  up, 
his  nerves  quivering  at  the  slightest  provocation. 

"  Somebody  told  me  just  then  't  war  Tad's  harnt," 
said  Price,  rousing  himself  with  an  effort. 

"  They  never !  "  cried  Bylor.       "  Old   man   Beames 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  191 

hain't  got  done  moanin'  'bout  his  cattle,  like  they  war  the 
orny mints  o'  the  nation.  Nobody  never  opened  thar 
mouths  ter  ye.  Ye  jes'  answered  ter  nuthin'." 

"  Harshaw  never  b'lieved  Lethe  Sayles  seen  no  harnt," 
declared  one. 

"He  hed  ter  say  that,"  observed  the  foreman,  evi- 
dently of  spectral  tendencies,  "  no  matter  what  he  be- 
lieved. The  'torney-gin'al  war  powerful  sure  she  seen  a 
harnt." 

"  He  'lowed  it  war  a  AeZfacination,"  protested  Bylor, 
being  extremely  averse  to  any  theory  involving  super- 
natural presence. 

"Waal,"  argued  the  logical  Price,  "he  'lowed  ez  a 
MAicination  war  suthin'  ez  looks  like  a  person,  but 't  ain't 
him.  Now  ain't  that  a  harnt?  Ain't  Tad's  harnt 
suthin'  that  looks  like  Tad,  an'  ain't  Tad  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  cried  Bylor,  springing  from  the  bench,  "  I  feel 
obligated  ter  git  away  from  sech  talk !  I  jes'  look  ter 
see  Peter  Rood  a-stalkin'  round  hyar  direc'ly,  with  that 
awful  stare  he  hed  in  his  eyes  when  he  war  stone  dead 
fur  ever  so  long,  with  his  face  so  close  ter  mine.  I  can't 
abide  it  no  longer !  Let 's  toss  up.  Heads,  acquit ! 
Tails,  convict !  "  He  produced  a  coin  from  his  pocket. 

"Naw,  ye  won't,"  said  the  foreman  quickly.  "  Naw! 
We  11  delib'rate  on  this  hyar  question,  an'  decide  it  like 
a  jury  oughter." 

Bylor  cast  a  glance  at  the  windows,  each  with  its 
great  white  image  upon  the  floor  below ;  at  the  dim  faces 
about  him ;  at  the  lamps,  dull  and  yellow,  making  the 
moonlight  seem  more  pallid  and  vaguely  blue.  He  threw 
himself  upon  the  bench,  and  for  a  long  time  was  silent. 

"  Look  hyar,"  said  Jerry  Price,  "  it  hev  jes'  got  down 
ter  this,  —  harnt  or  no  harnt.  Ef  Lethe  Sayles  seen 
Tad,  Mink  never  killed  him,  an'  hev  ter  be  acquitted. 
Ef  Lethe  Sayles  seen  Tad's  harnt,  Mink  killed  him 
whilst  doin'  a  unlawful  act,  an'  he  hev  ter  go  ter  the 
pen'tiary  fur  involuntary  manslaughter,  ez  the  jedge 
'lows  sech  be  a  felony." 

The  wrangle  over  the  question,  which  bristled  with 


192  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

difficulties  enough,  began  anew.  They  were  even  more 
illogical  and  irritable  than  before.  They  were  utterly 
unused  to  debate,  to  reason.  The  mental  strain  of  labo- 
riously applying  their  attention  to  each  detail,  striving 
to  master  circumstance  and  argument,  throughout  the 
two  days  during  which  the  case  had  been  tried  twice 
before  them,  had  resulted  in  a  certain  degree  of  prostra- 
tion of  their  faculties.  The  singular  surprise  in  the 
evidence  and  the  sudden  death  of  one  of  their  number 
had  unnerved  them  all,  more  or  less.  Being  ignorant 
men,  untrained  to  discriminate  and  differentiate,  while 
they  could  accept  the  strange  occurrences  which  the 
attorney-general  had  brought  to  their  knowledge,  they 
were  not  able  to  perceive  and  apply  the  scientific  expla- 
nations. And  in  fact  many  of  these  were  lame  and 
inadequate.  They  had  heard  these  seemingly  super- 
natural instances  from  a  man  of  education  and  acumen, 
and  it  had  fallen  to  their  lot  to  probe  the  probabilities, 
and  possibilities,  and  decide  an  important  question  based 
upon  them.  They  were  no  nearer  a  conclusion  when  Ben 
Doaks,  who  had  been  sitting  with  his  arms  folded,  silently 
meditating  for  a  time,  broke  out  abruptly,  "  That 's  it ! 
Tad's  harnt  kem  back  'kase  his  bones  ain't  buried." 

Bylor  once  more  started  up.  "  Who  tole  ye  that  ? 
Who  said  it  fust  ?  " 

"  I  dunno,"  replied  Ben  Doaks  quietly.  "  Some  o' 
them  boys." 

"  They  never  !  "  cried  Bylor.  "  I  hev  been  listening 
ter  every  one.  Some  6'  ye  answers  the  words  o'  a  man 
who  never  speaks  aloud  !  Thar  's  a  harnt  on  this  jury  ! 
I  know  it !  I  feel  it !  "  He  stood  up  at  his  full  height, 
trembling  like  a  leaf.  He  was  in  a  nervous  panic. 
"  Gentlemen,  we  hev  got  "  —  he  faltered  at  the  name  — 
"  him  with  us  yet.  Thar 's  thirteen  men  on  this  jury. 
For  Gawd's  sake,  let 's  go  down  an'  tell  the  jedge  we 
can't  agree.  I  '11  see  Rood  d'rec'ly,  an'  ye  will  too." 

"  Laws-a-massy !  "  cried  old  Beames,  interested  for 
the  first  time  in  aught  save  his  cattle.  "  I  '11  make  a 
break  an'  run"  —he  did  not  say  where,  the  obdurate 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  193 

officer  being  on  the  other  side  of  the  door.  He  too  rose, 
agitated,  his  toothless  jaw  shaking.  "  I  could  n't  abide 
ter  see  him,  like  he  looked  las'  night !  " 

"  Thar  's  thirteen  men  on  the  jury.  Thar  's  no  use 
denyin'  it,"  said  the  foreman,  "  whether  Pete  Rood's 
sperit  's  in  the  panel  or  no." 

A  great  shadow  suddenly  flapped  awkwardly  across 
the  floor.  Every  man  of  them  started.  But  it  was  only 
the  owl  they  had  heard  in  the  distance,  now  flying  past 
the  window.  The  situation  was  not  more  cheerful  when 
the  ill-omened  bird  settled  itself  on  the  branch  of  the 
hickory-tree,  and  shrilled  its  nerve-thrilling  cry  and 
convulsively  chuckled  aloud. 

The  foreman  rose,  too.  "  Thar  's  no  use  a-tryin',"  he 
said  :  "  we  can't  agree,  an'  we  hev  got  a  right  ter  disa- 

n.  Le's  go  down  an'  tell  the  jedge,  an'  git  discharged, 
n't  easy  shook,  but  this  hyar  whole  case  hev  been 
powerful  cur'ous,  an'  I  hev  mighty  nigh  petered  out." 

"  Look  hyar,  ought  n't  we  ter  hold  on  a  while  longer  ? 
Fur  Mink  Lorey  will  hev  ter  stay  in  jail  fur  four  months 
more,  till  he  kin  git  tried  at  the  next  term,"  suggested 
Jerry  Price. 

"  I  'm  willin',"  said  Ben  Doaks  reluctantly.  He  looked 
doubtfully  over  his  shoulder  as  he  spoke.  "  Eh  ?  "  he 
said,  as  he  turned  his  head  back  again. 

"  Nobody  never  said  nuthin',"  declared  the  foreman. 

"  I  'lowed  I  hearn  somebody  call  my  name." 

"  1 11  be  bound  ye  did  !  "  cried  Bylor.  "  But  nobody 
called  it  ez  we  kin  see  —  yit."  • 

He  rushed  to  the  door  and  summoned  the  officer.  The 
court  was  notified,  and  the  twelve  men  were  conducted 
down  the  stairs,  each  conscious  of  the  presence  of  the 
unseen  thirteenth. 

It  was  like  a  transition  from  the  conditions  of  delir- 
ium to  the  serene  atmosphere  of  right  reason.  The  win- 
dows were  all  flaring  with  lights,  as  if  the  court-room 
were  some  factory  that  ran  all  night.  The  lawyers 
looked  fagged  and  worn  out ;  they  had  the  air  of  work- 
ing by  momentum  aggregated  during  the  day  rather 


194  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

than  by  immediate  exertion.  It  was  a  contrast  to  Aver- 
ill's  leisurely  procedure,  and  they  regarded  the  innova- 
tion with  exasperation  and  the  judge  with  some  personal 
animosity .  He  had  his  pen  still  in  his  hand  ;  there  was 
a  moment's  silent  waiting  while  he  finished  the  line  he 
was  writing.  Mink  had  been  brought  out  from  jail.  He 
sat  feverishly  impatient  and  bright-eyed. 

Harshaw  and  the  attorney-general  turned  expectant 
and  interested  faces  toward  the  jury. 

The  judge  laid  down  his  pen  and  looked  kindly  at 
them.  He  viewed  them  as  a  bit  of  completed  work.  He 
had  a  great  respect  for  completed  work. 

When  they  were  asked  if  they  had  agreed  upon  their 
verdict,  the  foreman  answered  that  they  could  not  agree. 

The  prisoner's  countenance  changed  instantly.  It  had 
upon  it  an  expression  of  blank  amaze,  then  of  sharp 
distress.  Harshaw's  face  fell.  The  attorney-general 
pricked  up  his  ears.  The  judge  looked  grave,  con- 
cerned. 

"  Do  you  desire  any  further  instructions,  —  any  point 
of  difficulty  explained  ?  " 

The  foreman  interpreted  this  formula  as  a  general  in- 
quiry into  the  nature  of  the  trouble.  He  began  precip- 
itately, the  quaking  men  behind  him  feeling  all  the  de- 
spair of  being  the  members  of  a  responsible  corporate 
body  of  which  he  was  the  mouthpiece. 

"  Ye  see,  jedge,  we-uns  can't  but  feel  thar  's  thirteen 
men  on  this  jury." 

They  felt  the  judge's  quick  gray  eye  counting  them. 
Perhaps  at  that  moment  they  were  all  indifferent  to  the 
terrors  of  their  spectral  associate,  so  much  more  substan- 
tial a  source  of  terror  being  presented  to  them. 

The  man  who  had  read  the  Code  went  on:  "Pete 
Rood  —  him  ez  died  las'  night  —  war  neither  excused 
nor  discharged,  so  thar  's  thirteen  men  on  this  jury ;  an' 
we  hearn  him  talkin'  up-stairs  along  o'  the  rest  o'  the 
jurors,  sometimes  interruptin'  us,  an'  we-uns  can't  agree 
'count  o'  thar  bein'  a  harnt  on  the  jury." 

Even  he  faltered  before  the  look  in  the  face  of  the 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  195 

judge,  whose  decisions  were  thus  frankly  criticised. 
There  was  something  terrible  in  the  fury  that  his  eyes 
expressed.  He  sat  motionless,  with  an  air  of  great 
calmness  and  dignity.  His  face,  however,  crimsoned  to 
the  roots  of  his  hair.  The  veins  in  his  forehead  stood 
out  swollen  and  blue.  There  was  an  intense  silence  for 
a  moment.  Then  his  voice,  as  always,  singularly  low 
and  inexpressive,  broke  the  pause. 

"  Mr.  Sheriff,"  he  said,  "  conduct  those  thirteen  — 
those  twelve  men  to  the  county  jail,  and  keep  them 
there  for  contempt  of  court  until  ten  o'clock  to-morrow 
morning,  permitting  no  communication  with  others."' 

He  directed  that  a  fine  of  ten  dollars  should  be  en- 
tered against  each,  and  forthwith  adjourned  the  court. 

This  high-handed  proceeding  had  no  parallel  in  the 
annals  of  the  circuit.  Harshaw,  swelling  with  rage, 
found  knots  of  men  eagerly  discussing  it,  as  he  pushed 
his  way  out  into  the  hall.  Some  one  was  advancing 
the  opinion  that  a  jury  in  jail  was  no  longer  a  jury,  but 
merely  twelve  culprits.  Another  found  a  hearty  laugh 
in  the  reflection  that  they  would  not  probably  discover 
so  many  harnts  in  jail  as  in  the  jury-room.  A  third  de- 
manded of  Harshaw,  "  Why  did  n't  he  discharge  the 
jury,  and  imprison  them  as  men  ?  " 

"  Too  afraid  of  the  S'preme  Court,"  Harshaw  hissed 
between  his  teeth.  "  Wish  he  had  !  On  appeal  a  pre- 
mature discharge  would  operate  as  an  acquittal  of  the 
prisoner." 

He  regarded  the  action  of  the  judge  as  an  outrage, 
and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  express  this  opinion.  He  had 
expended  much  time  and  force  upon  his  case,  and  looked 
for  no  compensation  but  the  satisfaction  of  success.  He 
had  that  excellent  quality  in  a  lawyer,  the  faculty  of  mak- 
ing his  client's  cause  his  own.  He  felt  the  hardship  of  this 
extension  of  the  prisoner's  jeopardy  scarcely  less  deeply 
than  Mink  himself.  A  little  remonstrance  with  the  ig- 
norant men,  a  little  pocketing  of  personal  and  judicial 
pride,  a  few  coaxing,  explanatory  words,  might  have  sent 
them  back  refreshed  and  invigorated  to  their  delibera- 


196  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

tions,  with  a  good  hope  of  agreement.  Now,  there  was 
no  prophesying  what  effect  these  strong  measures  would 
have  upon  them.  He  believed  that  Gwinnan  had  tran- 
scended all  the  authority  of  his  office.  "  By  God,"  he 
cried,  "  if  he  keeps  on  like  he 's  started  he  '11  get  im- 
peached some  day !  And  if  I  could  see  my  way  to  it,  I 
swear  I  'd  introduce  the  resolution  in  the  House  my- 
self!" 

He  walked  off,  his  head  swimming  a  little.  He  had 
said  this  rash  thing  before  a  motley  crowd,  and  at  any 
time  it  might  be  repeated  to  Gwinnan,  who  was  himself 
a  politician  in  some  sort,  and  a  man  of  great  force. 


XIV. 

IMPRISONMENT  proved  an  efficacious  method  of  exor- 
cising the  '*  harnt "  upon  the  jury.  Much  of  the  sojourn 
in  the  county  jail  was  expended  in  criminations  and  re- 
criminations. Not  one  of  the  jurymen  would  admit  any 
responsibility  for  their  plight.  Not  one  had  entertained 
the  slightest  belief  in  their  ghostly  associate.  The  mere 
contact  with  that  practical,  prosaic  mundane  force,  the 
law  of  the  land,  had  so  restored  them  that  they  were  em- 
boldened to  roundly  denounce  the  harnt.  And  the  name 
of  poor  Peter  Rood,  which  had  been  whispered  with 
bated  breath  in  the  jury-room,  came  smartly  enough 
from  the  tongue  even  of  Bylor.  ™Tn  fact,  he  was  the 
most  persistent  in  disavowing  susceptibility  to  spectral 
influence. 

"I  begged  an'  begged  ye  ter  shet  up  talkin'  'bout 
sech,"  he  cried,  which  was  indeed  the  truth.  "  An'  ye 
jes'  kep'  it  up  an'  kep'  it  up,  till  ye  skeered  yerse'fs  out'n 
yer  boots,  an'  then  I  could  n't  do  nuthin'  with  ye." 

They  had  all  been  locked  temporarily  into  one  room 
of  the  jail,  while  the  sheriff  and  jailer  consulted  in  re- 
gard to  the  accommodations  for  so  unusual  a  number  of 
prisoners.  In  their  close  quarters  the  jurymen  leaned 
against  the  wall  or  walked  the  floor,  jostling  each  other 
in  the  shadow,  for  the  room  was  dark  save  for  the  moon- 
beams slanting  through  the  bars  of  the  window.  The 
foreman  hung  about  in  the  obscure  places,  freely  ad- 
dressed,—  for  they  knew,  without  seeing,  that  he  was 
there,  —  and  required  to  bear  the  brunt  of  all  the  re- 
proaches for  the  calamity.  Once  he  plucked  up  spirit 
to  retort. 

"  Ye  war  the  very  man  ez  yapped  fur  the  dep'ty,"  he 


198  Z^V  THE   CLOUDS. 

said  to  Bylor,  who  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn  into 
argument. 

"How'd  I  know  ez  you-uns  war  a-goin'  ter  traipse 
down  them  steers  an'  'low  ter  the  jedge  ez  you-uns 
knowed  mo'  law  'n  he  do  ?  Ye  dad-burned  aged  id  jit, 
ef  ye  war  n't  older  'n  me  I  'd  lay  ye  out  on  this  floor." 

"  I  felt  jes'  like  the  tail  of  a  dog  in  a  fight,  —  could 
neither  holp  nor  hender  the  critter  ez  toted  me  ahint 
him,  but  war  jes'  ez  apt  ter  git  gnawed  ez  him,"  said 
Jerry  Price  disconsolately. 

"  I  looked  ter  see  the  jedge  fetch  him  a  pop  'side  the 
head,  myself,"  said  the  new  juryman,  evidently  unac- 
quainted with  judicial  methods.  He  had  regarded  his 
capture  to  serve  on  the  jury  as  a  woful  disaster,  and 
could  hardly  bear  up  under  this  aggregation  of  misfor- 
tunes. "  Ef  I  hed  knowed  what  war  comin',  I  would  n't 
hev  followed  him  down  them  steers." 

"Six  spry  young  steers  'mongst  my  cattle,  —  I'll 
never  see  'em  agin  I  "  cried  old  man  Beames  from  out 
the  darkness,  reminded  anew  of  his  journeying  herds 
under  the  insufficient  guidance  of  Bob.  "  I  hev  never 
done  no  wrong  in  my  life.  I  hev  tuk  heed  ter  my  feet 
ter  walk  in  the  right  way.  An'  hyar  in  my  old  age, 
through  another  man's  fault,  the  door  of  a  jail  hev  been 
shet  on  me." 

His  voice  dropped.  They  were  all  feeling  the  poig- 
nant humiliation  of  the  imprisonment.  They  were 
honest  men,  to  whom  it  could  scarcely  have  come  but  for 
this  mischance.  At  every  contortion  of  wounded  pride 
they  turned  upon  the  unlucky  foreman. 

"  I  'lowed  I  'd  drap  in  my  tracks,"  cried  Ben  Doaks, 
"  whenst  he  jes'  tuk  the  Code  o'  Tennessee  by  the  hawns 
an'  tail,  an'  dragged  it  up  afore  the  jedge." 

And  Jerry  Price  was  fain  to  sneer,  too. 

"  Did  the  Code  hev  nuthin'  in  it  'bout  cuttin'  out  the 
tongue  of  a  foreman  of  a  jury  ?  "  he  demanded. 

But  the  Code  was  an  unabated  fact  still,  and  the 
nephew  of  the  ex-justice  alone  could  say  what  was  in  it. 
"  Naw,  sir !  "  he  retorted,  emboldened  by  the  allusion  to 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  199 

his  superior  knowledge,  "  nor  about  jailin'  a  jury,  nuther. 
1  don't  b'lieve  the  jedge  hed  the  right  ter  jail  the  jury." 

"  Waal,"  drawled  Jerry,  satirically,  u  we-uns  hed  bet- 
ter make  up  our  minds  powerful  quick  how  we  air  a-goin' 
ter  pay  him  back  fur  it." 

The  foreman  was  saved  the  mortification  of  acknowl- 
edging the  hopelessness  of  reprisal.  A  voice  without 
sounded  suddenly. 

"  I  wanter  see  how  many  thar  air,"  said  the  jailer. 

"  On  a  jury  ?  Shucks !  ye  're  f  unnin'.  Twelve,"  in 
the  familiar  tones  of  the  sheriff. 

"  I  jes'  wanter  look  at  'em  agin." 

"  Ye  sha'n't,"  retorted  the  sheriff. 

He  did  not  reckon  on  the  fact  that  although  he,  as 
sheriff,  had  the  legal  authority  and  control  of  the  jail, 
the  jailer  was  possessed  of  the  material  keys,  and  locked 
and  unlocked  the  doors  at  will.  He  opened  this  one 
now,  gingerly,  and  the  men  within  felt  the  grin  they 
could  not  see. 

"  Brung  'em  hyar  'kase  they  could  n't  count,"  he  said, 
jocosely.  "They  air  the  fust  boarders  we  hev  hed  fur 
sech  ez  that." 

The  sheriff,  who  was  holding  a  lamp  in  the  hall, 
pulled  the  door  to,  still  animated  by  his  sense  of  duty, 
and  the  jury  heard  the  lock  click  as  the  facile  jailer 
turned  the  key. 

"They  'lowed  thar  war  a  harnt  in  the  jury-room," 
said  the  officer. 

Within  all  were  silent,  that  they  might  hear. 

"I  ain't  s'prised  none,"  said  the  jailer;  "plenty  oj 
harnts  hyar.  Men  ez  war  hung,  ye  know,  —  liked  our 
accommodations  better 'n  them  they  got  arterwards ; 
that  brings  'em  back.  Tim  Jenkins  war  dragged  right 
out'n  that  thar  room  whar  the  jury  be  now,  when  the 
lynchers  kem  an'  tuk  him.  Hed  me  tied  down-steers, 
ye  'member." 

He  went  off  gayly  down  the  hall,  jingling  his  keys. 
Presently  his  voice  was  heard  in  another  mood,  swearing 
at  the  judge  and  demanding,  "  What  sorter  man  is  this 


200  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

hyar  Gwirman,  ennyhow,  ez  you-uns  hev  got  out  thar  on 
the  bench  ?  Send  me  twelve  men  ter  eat  an'  sleep,  an' 
the  jail  ez  full  ez  it  air !  Does  he  think  I  keep  a  tavern  ? 
Thar  ain't  room  enough  hyar  fur  twelve  fleas !  " 

He  compassed  the  problem  somehow,  for  the  jurymen, 
smarting  with  the  indignity  and  hardship,  were  led  forth 
the  next  morning,  having  slept  as  well  as  was  possible 
considering  the  united  grievances  of  the  accommodations 
and  the  mortification,  and  eaten  as  their  reduced  appe- 
tites and  the  prison  fare  permitted. 

They  resumed  their  deliberations  in  the  jury-room, 
and  it  argues  much  for  their  earnest  desire  to  do  right 
and  their  respect  for  their  oath  that  they  did  not  find  a 
verdict  at  hap-hazard.  They  reported  again  and  again 
that  they  could  reach  no  decision.  They  were  held  over 
Sunday,  and  after  nightfall  on  Monday  they  came  into 
the  court-room,  and  in  guarded  phrase  and  with  some 
perturbation  of  manner  announced  once  more  that  they 
could  not  agree  as  to  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  the 
prisoner. 

In  answer  to  the  usual  question,  the  foreman  was 
eager  to  explain  that  they  had  experienced  no  difficulty 
other  than  a  difference  of  opinion,  and  felt  no  want  of 
further  instructions.  He  forbore  to  offer  criticisms  upon 
judicial  methods,  and  the  men  behind  him,  all  acutely 
realizing  the  position  of  the  dog's  tail,  breathed  more 
freely.  The  judge  looked  at  them  with  a  certain  resent- 
ment in  his  eyes.  He  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  gnawing 
the  end  of  his  mustache.  Mink  sat  beside  his  lawyer, 
eager,  intent,  hardly  appreciating  at  the  moment  the 
significance  of  the  disagreement.  Harshaw  had  turned 
aside  with  a  pettish  mutter  to  his  yellow  beard,  for  the 
final  adjournment  for  the  term  impended,  Gwinnan 
being  compelled  to  leave  on  the  train  that  night  to  hold 
court  in  a  remote  county  in  his  own  circuit. 

How  Gwinnan  could  infuse  into  his  impassive  mien 
and  his  soft,  expressionless  drawl  so  caustic  a  suggestion 
of  displeasure  is  one  of  those  mysteries  of  manner  ad- 
dressed to  a  subtle  and  receptive  sense  which  can  take 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  201 

account  of  so  fine  and  elusive  a  medium  of  communica- 
tion. The  jury,  in  receiving  their  discharge,  felt  like 
culprits  until  they  were  once  more  at  large  and  in  the 
outer  air,  when  they  swore  at  the  judge  with  the  heartiest 
unanimity,  —  on  this  point  they  could  agree,  —  and  prom- 
ised themselves,  taking  note  of  his  character  as  politi- 
cian, that  if  ever  they  were  vouchsafed  the  opportunity 
they  would  retaliate.  Then  among  the  loungers  about 
the  tavern  they  fell  to  asking  the  news  with  the  hungry 
interest  of  travelers  who  have  been  long  absent. 

They  experienced  a  certain  surprise  to  find  that  their 
accountability  as  jurors  had  not  ceased  with  their  dis- 
charge. There  was  a  manifest  inclination  on  the  part 
of  public  opinion,  as  embodied  in  the  idlers  about  the 
hotel,  to  hold  them  individually  responsible  for  the  mis- 
chances of  the  trial.  Perhaps  the  impression  that  they 
had  been  long  absent  was  strengthened  by  the  revolution 
which  popular  prejudice  had  accomplished  in  the  inter- 
val. Its  flexibility  could  hardly  be  better  illustrated 
than  by  the  fact  that  the  prankish  Mink  had  suddenly 
risen  in  its  estimation  to  the  dignity  of  a  public  martyr. 

"He's  a  tremenjious  wild  scamp,  the  Lord  knows," 
said  one,  "  but  folks  ain't  jailed  fur  bein'  gamesome,  an' 
by  rights  ye  oughter  hev  turned  Mink  out'n  that  jail  this 
evenin'." 

"  Yessir,"  assented  another.  "  Mink  oughter  be  mighty 
nigh  Hazel  Valley  by  now,  ef  he  had  been  gin  a  fair 
trial." 

That  conclusive  formula,  "This  is  a  free  country,  by 
the  Lord !  "  was  often  insistently  reiterated  in  the  dis- 
cussion, for  the  bewildered  jury  discovered  that  the 
persuasion  of  the  prisoner's  innocence  had  never  wavered 
after  Alethea  Sayles  had  sworn  that  she  had  seen  Tad 
Simpkins  since  the  disaster.  The  community  at  large 
had  not  been  subjected  to  the  morbid  influences  of  seclu- 
sion, and  mental  stress,  and  the  nervous  shock  which 
the  jury  had  sustained  upon  the  death  of  Peter  Rood, 
and  the  necessity  of  persistent  consideration  of  spiritual 
and  spectral  phenomena  forced  upon  them  by  the  attor- 
ney-general. 


202  £N  THE  CLOUDS. 

"  You  see,  gentlemen,"  said  a  young  sprig  of  a  law- 
yer, glad  to  air  his  information,  "you  went  off  on  the 
wrong  road.  'T  war  n't  the  business  o'  the  defense  to 
account  for  Tad.  'T  was  the  prosecution's  business  to 
prove  that  he  was  dead  and  that  Mink  killed  him.  And 
they  did  n't  do  it ;  they  just  proved  he  was  missing,  for 
that  girl  swore  she  saw  him  afterward.  They  've  got  to 
prove  the  corpus  delicti,  gentlemen,  in  a  case  like  this." 

The  jurymen  were  laughed  to  scorn  when  they  sug- 
gested their  doubts  of  the  genuineness  of  Tad's  appear- 
ance. 

"  Now  did  n't  the  attorney-general  stuff  you  as  full  of 
lies  as  an  egg  of  meat !  "  cried  the  young  lawyer,  di- 
vided between  admiration  of  the  attorney-general's  re- 
sources and  contempt  for  their  credulity. 

"  Ye  air  the  only  folks  in  Cherokee  County  ez  b'lieves 
sech,"  said  another  by-stander.  "Old  man  Griff  an'  all 
his  gran'chil'n  lef  town  yestiddy  evenin'  plumb  sati'fied 
Tad  's  alive,  an'  goin'  ter  hunt  him  up.  An'  then  I 
reckon  the  old  man  '11  f  urgit  all  about  his  repentance,  an' 
club  an'  beat  him  same  ez  he  always  done." 

"  Waal,"  demanded  the  ex-foreman,  who  was  disposed 
to  maintain  the  difficulty  of  the  question,  "  how  could  a 
idjit  keer  fur  hisself  all  this  time  ?  " 

•'  Tad  never  war  sech  a  idjit ;  could  run  a  mill,  an' 
plough,  an'  pull  fodder,  an'  feed  stock!  I  '11  be  bound 
thar  's  a  mighty  differ  round  old  man  Griff's  digging 
now,  sure.  He  'peared  a  idjit  mos'ly  when  he  war  beat 
over  the  head.  Mos'  folks  would  look  miser'ble  then. 
He  air  lackin',  I  know,  but  I  reckon  he  kin  work  fur 
hisself  ez  well  ez  he  done  fur  old  man  Griff.  It's  a 
plumb  shame  ter  jail  Mink  Lorey  fur  fower  month  more 
till  he  kin  git  another  fool  jury  ter  try  him,  an'  mebbe 
send  him  ter  the  Pen'tiary  fur  live  year.  I  dunno  what 
oughter  be  done  ter  sech  a  jury  ez  you-uns." 

It  was  probably  well  for  the  public  peace  that  events 
of  general  interest  had  taken  place  during  the  seclusion 
of  the  jury  which  the  by-standers  found  a  certain  gloomy 
satisfaction  in  detailing ;  their  attention  was  thus  read- 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  203 

ily  enough  diverted  from  the  disagreements  of  the  jury- 
room  to  the  circumstances  of  Peter  Rood's  funeral, 
—  who  preached  the  sermon,  and  who  were  in  attend- 
ance. They  all  sat,  solemnly  chewing,  tilted  back  in 
their  splint-bottomed  chairs  on  the  front  gallery  of  the 
little  hotel.  The  lights  which  came  from  the  doors  and 
windows  of  the  building,  slanting  out  in  wide  shafts, 
seemed  to  sever  the  gloom  in  equal  sections.  The  figures 
of  the  men  were  dimly  seen  in  the  dusky  intervals.  The 
stars,  in  infinite  hosts,  were  marshaled  in  the  black  sky, 
for  the  moon  was  late  to-night.  Only  about  the  horizon 
were  melancholy  desert  spaces.  The  summit  line  of  the 
distant  mountains  was  indistinguishable  in  the  gloom. 
The  landscape  was  all  benighted.  The  presence  of  in- 
visible trees  close  at  hand  was  perceptible  only  to  some 
fine  sense  of  the  differing  degrees  of  density  in  the  black- 
ness. A  horse  trotted  through  the  slant  of  light,  falling 
into  the  road  and  showing  the  sleek  roan  of  the  steed 
and  the  impassive  face  under  the  drooping  hatbrim  of 
the  rider,  —  then  loomed  an  indeterminate  centaur  in  the 
alternate  glooms.  The  sounds  of  the  town  were  shrill, 
then  faint,  with  lapses  of  silence.  One  forlorn  cricket 
was  piping  somewhere  between  the  bricks  of  the  pave- 
ment. 

"  'Pears  ter  me,"  said  Bylor,  "  toler'ble  cur'ous  ez  they 
wagoned  deceased  "  —  he  had  adopted  the  word  from 
the  reports  of  the  sermon  —  "  way  up  yander  ter  Eska- 
qua  Cove,  ter  be  buried  in  the  graveyard  thar." 

"Waal."  explained  a  by-stander,  "his  mother  'lowed 
he  'd  feel  mo'  lonesome  down  hyar  'n  he  would  'mongst 
the  mountings,  —  an'  I  reckon  he  would." 

"  Ennybody  ez  air  dead  always  looked  lonesome  ter 
me,"  suggested  Ben  Doaks. 

*  "  I  don't  b  lieve  thar  's  a  man  in  the  Newnited  States, 
alive  or  dead,  ez  lonesome  ez  me  !  "  cried  the  cattle- 
owner.  "I  wisht  that  thar  durned  moon  would  heft 
over  the  mountings.  Ez  soon  ez  she  shows  her  aidge 
I  'm  a-goin'  ter  light  out  arter  my  cattle  an'  Bob." 

"  'Pears  ter  me,"  said  Doaks,  reflectively,  "  ez  things 


204  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

hev  turned  out  mighty  cur'ous,  ez  he  war  buried  in  the 
same  graveyard  whar  Lethe  Sayles  seen  Tad's  harnt." 

"  I  would  n't  go  by  thar  of  a  dark  night  fur  nuthin'," 
declared  Bylor.  "  Mought  see  both  of  'em." 

"  I  reckon,"  said  Ben  Doaks,  "  ez  Peter  Rood  knows 
all  'bout'n  it  now,  —  whether  it  war  Tad's  harnt  or  no." 

Something  at  a  distance  sounded  sharply  and  fell  into 
silence. 

"  I  reckon  folks  ez  air  dead  hev  got  suthin'  mo'  ter 
tend  ter  'n  studyin'  'bout  folks  they  knowed  in  this  life," 
said  Bylor,  nodding  his  head  with  grim  conviction. 

"  Yes,  sir-ee !  "  exclaimed  the  ex  -  foreman,  as  he 
chewed  vigorously,  and  spat  at  the  post  which  upheld 
the  floor  of  the  gallery  above ;  he  was  an  effective  marks- 
man. "  They  hev  got  a  verdict  in  the  courts  of  the 
t'other  world  on  Peter  Rood  by  now.  They  ain't  got  no 
failiii'  human  jury  thar,"  he  continued  sanctimoniously. 
"  I  reckon  he  's  burnin'  in  Torment  before  now."  He 
offered  this  suggestion  with  that  singular  satisfaction  in 
the  symmetry  of  the  theory  of  fiery  retribution  charac- 
teristic of  the  rural  religionist. 

Ben  Doaks  stirred  uneasily.  "  I  dunno  'bout  that," 
he  said,  dubiously.  "  Rood  war  a  perfessin'  member." 
He  himself  laid  great  stress  upon  this  unattained  grace. 

"I  know  that,"' said  the  ex-foreman,  "but  't ain't  done 
him  no  good.  I  hearn  him  'low  at  camp  ez  he  war  a 
backslider,  an'  ef  the  truth  war  knowed  I  reckon  he  war 
a  black-hearted  sinner." 

Once  more  that  strange  sound,  half  smothered  by  the 
distance,  smote  upon  the  air.  Then  the  regular  hoof- 
beat  of  a  horseman  riding  by  on  the  red  clay  road  inter- 
posed and  rattled  against  the  stones,  and  echoed  from 
the  bridge  below  with  hollow  reverberations. 

"  What  war  that  cur'ous  noise  ?  "  demanded  Ben 
Doaks. 

"  Sounded  ter  me  like  cattle  a-bellerin',"  said  old  man 
Beames. 

The  attentive  pause  was  illustrated  by  the  red  spark 
of  each  man's  pipe,  dulling  as  it  was  held  motionless  for 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  205 

a  moment  in  the  hand ;  then  restored  to  the  smoker's 
lips,  it  glowed  into  subdued  brilliancy,  sometimes  giving 
an  elusive  glimpse  of  the  delicate  and  shadowy  blue 
vapor  curling  from  the  bowl.  They  heard  nothing  but  a 
vague  murmur,  dropping  presently  into  silence. 

"  I  b'lieve,"  said  Bylor,  "  ez  Peter  Rood  hed  suthin' 
on  his  mind." 

"  Me,  too,"  spoke  up  another  man.  "  He  sot  next  ter 
me,  an'  he  looked  troubled  an'  tried,  somehows,  an' 
wunst  in  a  while  he  sighed  mightily.  I  dunno  what  ailed 
him." 

"  I  reckon  he  war  sick,"  suggested  a  by-stander. 

"  He  did  n't  'pear  ter  be  sick.  He  turned  an'  looked 
at  me  plumb  pleased  ter  death  when  that  Lethe  Sayles 
'lowed  Tad  war  alive.  An'  then  when  the  'torney-gin- 
eral  made  it  out  ez  't  war  jes'  Tad's  harnt  he  jumped 
for'ards,  an'  pinted  with  his  finger,  an'  next  thing  I 
knowed  the  man  war  a  harnt  hisself." 

The  sound  in  the  distance  had  become  continuous, 
louder.  Once  more  it  broke  upon  the  conversation. 
"  Boys,"  said  Jerry  Price,  in  a  tone  of  conviction, 
"  suthin'  is  a-goin'  on  somewhar." 

The  vocation  for  the  role  of  spectator  is  strong  in  hu- 
manity. Each  of  the  long,  lank  mountaineers  started  up 
with  unusual  willingness,  under  the  impression  that  he 
was  balked  of  some  entertainment  at  which  nature  in- 
tended that  he  should  be  dead-headed.  The  distant 
murmur  was  once  more  lost  in  the  sounds  nearer  at  hand. 
A  sudden  resonant,  brazen  clangor  challenged  the  dark 
stillness.  It  had  a  vibratory,  swaying  iteration,  for  it 
was  the  court-house  bell,  rung  as  an  alarum  to  the  law- 
abiding  population.  As  the  group  started  swiftly  in  the 
direction  of  the  sound,  a  man  came  running  at  great 
speed  down  the  pavement,  almost  overturning  old 
Beames,  and  called  loudly  to  the  proprietor  of  the  hotel, 
asking  if  Judge  Gwinnan  were  within.  They  recognized 
the  deputy  sheriff  as  he  rushed  into  the  bar-room. 

"  The  old  man  's  been  hevin'  hell  with  Mink  Lorey, 
down  yander  at  the  jail,"  he  explained  in  breathless 


206  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

gasps.  "  He  kerried  on  like  a  crazy  idjit  when  we  iuk 
him  back,  —  f out  like  a  wild-cat  every  foot  o'  the  way. 
An'  now  thar  's  a  crowd  at  the  jail  a-batterin'  the  doors, 
an'  breakin'  the  winders,  an'  swearin'  they  '11  take  Mink 
Lorey  out." 

In  pursuit  of  the  promise  of  excitement  their  feet  did 
not  lag.  They  heard,  as  they  set  out,  the  deputy's 
rasping  voice  behind  them  renewing  his  anxious  de- 
mand for  Judge  Gwinnan ;  then  it  was  lost  in  the  cease- 
less thud  of  their  own  feet,  and  the  insistence  of  the  bell 
filling  the  darkness  with  its  deliberate  alternations  of 
tone,  till  the  night  rocked  and  swayed  with  the  oscil- 
lating, remonstrant  sound.  Approaching  the  court- 
house, they  could  hear  those  fainter  and  continuous  vibra- 
tions of  the  bell-metal,  the  turbulent  but  bated  under- 
tones, that  set  the  air  a-trembling  and  seemed  some 
muttered  affirmation,  some  reserve  of  clamors,  that 
should  presently  break  out,  too,  and  utter  wrath  and 
measured  menace.  The  darkness  seemed  unparalleled, 
since  there  was  something  to  be  done  and  at  hazard. 
Only  at  long  intervals  in  the  blackness,  windows  of 
dwellings  were  opened,  and  here  and  there  a  venture- 
some female  head  was  thrust  out  in  baffled  and  hope- 
less curiosity.  But  most  of  the  houses  had  closed  blinds 
and  barred  doors,  for  the  alarum  of  the  court-house 
bell  had  told  the  inmates  all  that  the  prudent  might 
care  to  learn.  The  streets  of  Shaftesville,  grass-grown 
as  they  were,  had  known  the  tread  of  lynchers,  and 
distrusted  any  lawless  mission.  It  was  so  dark  that 
men,  meeting  at  intersections  of  the  streets,  ran  blindly 
against  each  other,  recoiling  with  oaths,  —  sometimes 
against  trees  and  posts.  A  few  provident  souls  carrying 
lanterns,  and  looking  in  the  blackness  like  fleet  fire-Hies, 
were  made  aware  when  they  encountered  the  rescuers, 
in  pressing  in  among  the  crowd  in  the  jail-yard,  —  the 
posse  and  the  mob  otherwise  indistinguishable,  —  by 
having  the  lanterns  struck  out  of  their  hands.  The  jail 
was  silent;  its  very  vicinity  had  a  suggestion  of  glum 
resistance.  Some  consciousness  of  a  darker  and  solid 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  207 

mass  in  the  air  was  the  only  cognizance  that  the  senses 
could  take  of  its  propinquity,  except,  indeed,  the  sound 
of  breaking  glass.  A  rail  had  been  dragged  from  a 
fence,  and,  in  the  hands  of  unseen  parties,  after  the 
manner  of  a  battering-ram,  the  glass  in  the  lower  panes 
was  shattered.  This  was  wanton  destruction,  for  the 
bars  withstood  the  assault.  The  working  of  some  in- 
strument at  them,  ever  and  anon,  was  an  evasive  bit  of 
craft,  for  follow  the  sound  as  they  might,  the  sheriff  and 
his  posse  could  never  locate  it.  A  light  showing  in  an 
upper  window  was  saluted  by  a  volley  of  stones,  and 
quickly  disappeared.  The  missiles  fell  back  in  the  dense, 
panting,  nameless,  viewless  crowd,  eliciting  here  and  there 
a  howl,  succeeded  by  jeering  laughter. 

Once,  as  the  glass  crashed  in  a  lower  window,  a  child's 
voice  within  whimpered  suddenly ;  a  soothing  murmur, 
and  the  child  was  silent. 

"  Mis'  Perkins,"  called  out  a  voice  from  among  the 
mob  to  the  jailer's  wife,  tl  make  Jacob  open  the  do'  ! 
Tell  him  we  '11  string  him  up  ef  he  don't,  when  we  git 
holt  o'  him." 

There  was  intense  silence  in  the  closely  jammed,  in- 
distinguishable crowd  without,  for  who  could  say  who 
was  the  posse  or  who  the  mob,  helpless  against  each 
other  ? 

A  murmur  of  remonstrance  within.  An  interval. 
A  sharp  insistence  from  the  crowd,  and  a  quavering 
response. 

"  I  can't,  gentlemen ! "  cried  a  shrill  feminine  voice. 
"  Jake  's  sech  a  bull-headed  fool,  he  won't !  " 

The  summit  line  of  the  distant  mountains  was  be- 
coming vaguely  visible ;  the  stars  were  not  less  bright, 
the  black  earth  was  as  dark  as  ever,  but  the  moon-rise 
was  imminent. 

There  was  suddenly  a  surging  commotion  in  the 
crowd ;  it  swayed  hither  and  thither,  and  rushed  vio- 
lently upon  the  door.  The  point  of  attack  being  plain 
enough,  there  was  some  feeble  resistance,  offered  pre- 
sumably by  the  posse.  A  pistol  was  fired  in  the  air  — 


208  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

another  —  a  wild  turmoil ;  all  at  once  the  door  crashed 
and  gave  way ;  half  the  assailants  were  carried  over  its 
splintered  ruins  by  the  force  of  their  own  momentum. 
There  were  lights  enough  now  springing  up  in  every 
direction.  Men  with  torches  dashed  through  the  halls, 
holding  them  aloft  with  streaming  clouds  of  flame  and 
smoke,  as  erratic  as  comets.  It  required  only  a  moment, 
with  the  united  exertions  of  half  a  dozen  stalwart  young 
fellows,  to  break  the  door  of  Mink's  cell ;  it  offered  no 
such  opposition  as  the  main  entrance. 

There  was  no  cry  of  joy  as  they  rushed  in ;  no  fra- 
ternal embrace  for  the  liberators  who  had  risked  so  much 
in  the  cause  of  natural  justice. 

The  cell  was  empty.  The  bars  at  the  window  were 
firm  as  ever.  The  locked  door  was  broken  but  a  moment 
ago.  And  he  was  gone  ! 

The  word  rang  through  the  building.  The  infuriated 
crowd  pervaded  the  cell  in  a  moment,  like  some  tumult- 
uous flood.  The  jailer  himself  was  not  to  be  found. 
His  wife  and  children  had  sought  refuge  elsewhere. 

The  doors  were  guarded  against  the  sheriff,  while  a 
select  party  searched  every  room  in  the  house.  Some 
serious  fright  was  occasioned  to  certain  malefactors,  who 
had  reason  to  fear  the  people  more  than  the  law,  and 
esteemed  the  jail  in  some  sort  as  a  haven,  but  there  were 
many  who  appealed  for  liberation.  One  of  these,  a  vic- 
tim of  the  federal  court,  Big  Brandy  Owen  by  name, 
made  so  earnest  an  insistence  that  his  case  was  consid- 
ered. But  he  was  no  genuine  moonshiner,  it  was  argued  ; 
he  was  only  a  saloon-keeper  who  had  fallen  a  victim  to 
the  liquor  laws.  "We  dunno  ye,"  they  prevaricated. 
"  Ye  ain't  labeled  Brandy,  ye  see."  And  so  they  locked 
his  door  upon  him. 

They  did  as  much  damage  as  they  could,  in  default  of 
accomplishing  their  object,  and  on  retiring  they  dispersed 
without  recognition  among  the  peaceful  citizens  who  had 
weakly  striven,  half-heartedly,  to  uphold  the  law. 

The  moon  was  up.  The  Great  Smoky  Mountains,  in 
magnificent  immensity,  clasped  the  world  in  the  gigantic 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  209 

curve  about  the  horizon  east  and  south.  The  trees 
seemed  veiled  in  some  fine,  elusive  silver  gauze,  so  gleam- 
ing a  line  of  light  came  to  the  eye  from  their  boughs. 
Frost  sparkled  upon  the  grass-fringed  streets.  The  shad- 
ows were  sharp  and  black.  The  stars  —  few  now  — 
faintly  scintillated  in  empyreal  distances.  The  town  was 
so  still,  not  even  a  dog  barked.  The  rescuers  experienced 
a  luxury  of  bravado  in  the  realization  that  it  was  for  fear 
of  them  that  it  was  fain  to  hold  its  breath  and  lie  in 
darkness,  save  for  the  light  of  the  moon.  Perhaps  it 
was  as  well,  and  spared  further  mischief,  that  they 
exulted  in  riding  their  horses  at  a  gallop  through  the 
streets,  breaking  now  and  then  into  wild  fantasies  of 
yells,  with  a  fantastic  refrain  of  echoes. 

The  rioters  after  a  time  disappeared.  A  long  interval, 
and  perhaps  a  single  equestrian  figure  would  ride  down 
the  straggling  street  and  whoop  aloud,  and  turn  in  his 
saddle  to  listen  for  a  comrade's  response,  and  then  ride 
on. 

Finally  silence  fell.  The  waning  moon  was  high.  The 
night  was  well-nigh  spent.  Sundry  movements  of  shad- 
ows on  window  blinds,  sundry  dim  yellow  lights  show- 
ing through  them,  despite  the  lustre  of  the  moon,  indi- 
cated that  the  inhabitants  considered  that  the  drama  had 
been  played,  and  were  betaking  themselves  to  bed.  Ale- 
thea  Sayles,  crouching  in  the  dormer  window  of  the  cot- 
tage where  the  witness  fee  had  sufficed  to  lodge  her, 
looking  with  dilated  eyes  over  the  little  town  enmeshed 
in  the  silver  net  of  its  frosted  trees,  strained  her  ears  in 
the  silence,  and  exclaimed  in  the  anguish  of  suspense, 
"  They  mus'  hev  tuk  him  out,  Aunt  Dely,  or  they  would 
n't  hev  been  so  gamesome." 

She  knew  little  of  town  ways.  Had  the  mob  been 
successful,  the  frost  itself  could  not  vanish  more  silently. 

Mrs.  Purvine,  her  wise  head  pillowed,  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  as  she  remarked,  on  "town  folkses' 
geese,"  sleepily  assented. 

The  moon  looked  down  in  Alethea's  upturned  eyes. 
The  pine  that  stood  by  the  window  tapped  upon  the  pane. 


210  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

She  felt  as  if  it  were  a  friendly  and  familiar  thing,  here 
where  there  were  so  few  trees  ;  for  the  sight  of  houses 
—  crowded,  indeed,  they  seemed  —  overwhelmed  her  in 
some  sort,  and  embarrassed  her.  It  was  all  a-shimmer 
with  the  frost ;  even  an  empty  bird's-nest  on  a  bough 
was  a  miracle  of  delicate  interweaving  of  silver  gleams. 
Her  hair  in  its  rich  dishevelment  fell  in  coils  and  tangles 
half-way  to  her  waist.  She  clasped  her  hands  over  one 
knee.  It  was  an  interval  of  peace. 

"Lethe!  "  said  Mrs.  Purvine,  rousing  herself.  "Ain't 
that  gal  kem  ter  bed  yit !  "  The  admonition  was  a  sub- 
terfuge. She  was  about  to  impart  information.  "Lethe, 
ef  ye  b'lieve  me,  these  hyar  crazy  muskrats  o'  town  folks 
hev  got  sun-bonnets  ready-made  in  these  hyar  stores." 

The  vicissitudes  of  the  trial  had  been  the  veriest  trifles 
to  her.  She  had  utilized  the  metropolitan  sojourn.  She 
had  pervaded  the  stores,  as  women  of  her  sort  do  else- 
where. Mighty  little  there  was  in  these  stores  that  Aunt 
Dely  had  not  rummaged. 

"  Ye  tole  me  that  afore,"  said  the  absorbed  Alethea. 

Mrs.  Purvine  chuckled  aloud  as  she  reviewed  the  fact. 
It  afforded  her  an  occult  complacence,  yet  she  laughed 
at  it. 

Presently  she  recurred  to  it. 

"  My  cracky !  Lethe,"  she  exclaimed,  "  who  makes 
'em  ?  " 

And  with  this  problem  in  her  mind,  she  fell  asleep 
among  the  comforts  of  "  town  folkses'  geese." 


XV. 

THE  fires  of  discontent  smouldered  throughout  the 
next  day.  Although  many  of  the  country  people  had  left 
town,  there  was  more  than  the  usual  stir  upon  the  streets. 
Idle  knots  of  men  strolling  about  or  standing  on  the 
corners  neglected  their  avocations  in  eager  discussion  of 
the  events  of  the  previous  evening.  There  was  very 
general  reprehension  of  the  action  of  the  mob,  —  so 
general  that  it  might  suggest  a  wonder  as  to  whence 
came  its  component  elements,  and  an  unpleasant  feeling 
that  perhaps  a  satirical  ringleader  might  be  advancing 
these  rebukes,  and  watching  with  secret  laughter  their 
effect.  Many  rumors  prevailed,  some  so  fantastic  as  to 
balk  the  credulity  that  sought  to  accept  them,  and  others 
probable  enough  to  be  a  solution  of  Mink's  disappear- 
ance. Some  maintained  that  he  had  been  liberated  by 
the  mob.  Others  said  that  at  the  time  of  the  onslaught 
he  had  been  hidden  in  the  cellar  with  the  jailer  and  the 
jailer's  family ;  and  this  was  again  roundly  denied,  for 
the  cellars  were  reported  to  have  been  thoroughly 
searched.  It  was  said,  too,  that  the  prisoner  had  been 
gagged,  bound  securely,  and  boldly  carried  forth  from 
the  back  door  through  the  crowd  in  the  intense  dark- 
ness, and  that  he  was  now  held  in  retreat  at  the  sheriff's 
house.  However  it  might  have  been,  that  officer  received 
about  noonday  two  or  three  threatening  letters  signed, 
"  The  men  that  elected  you." 

He  had  since  been  disposed  to  exonerate  himself,  and 
he  bore  a  troubled,  anxious  face  about  the  town,  and 
talked  in  a  loud,  strained,  remonstrant  falsetto.  It  was 
through  some  words  which  he  let  fall,  in  the  perturbation 
of  the  discovery  that  he  was  liable  to  be  held  to  account 


212  fN  THE  CLOUDS. 

personally  by  this  unknown  and  numerous  enemy,  that 
it  became  public  he  had  applied  to  Judge  Gwinnan,  not 
in  his  judicial  capacity,  but  for  advice  in  this  emergency, 
and  that  it  was  Gwinnan  who  had  devised  the  ruse  which 
had  baffled  the  rescuers. 

The  curiosity  as  to  Mink's  fate  grew  so  pronounced  as 
the  day  wore  on  that  a  party  of  young  roughs  went 
openly  to  the  jail  and  interrogated  the  jailer.  For  that 
functionary  had  returned.  He  showed  himself  at  the 
window  of  his  stronghold  jauntily  enough.  He  had  a 
jovial  expression,  a  black  mustache  that  turned  cheer- 
fully upward, —  for  he  laughed  often  and  usually  laughed 
last,  —  quick  brown  eyes,  and  a  bushy,  unkempt  head ; 
he  was  unshaven  and  in  his  shirt-sleeves.  He  seemed  to 
care  not  an  atom  for  the  illogical  views  of  his  fellow-cit- 
izens. 

"  I  'm  appinted  by  the  sher'ff  o'  Cherokee  County  ter 
keep  folks  in  jail,  an'  by  Hokey,  I  'm  a-goin'  ter  do  it." 

They  begged  him  to  let  them  in ;  they  had  come  to  see 
him  sociably,  —  a-visitin',  they  protested. 

"  Can't  git  in  hyar,  'thout  ye  steal  a  horse  or  kill  yer 
gran'mother,  one."  He  shook  his  keys  jocosely  at  them, 
and  vanished. 

At  noon,  when  the  train  was  due  at  the  little  station, 
the  mystery  was  solved.  The  jailer  was  strolling  up  and 
down  the  platform,  grave  enough  for  once  in  his  life, 
and  with  apparently  no  purpose.  Asked  if  he  were  go- 
ing to  Glaston  he  replied,  with  an  effort  at  his  usual 
manner,  "  Not  in  these  clothes,  if  the  court  knows  itself, 
an'  it  rather  think  it  do  !  " 

It  was  a  day  of  doubtful  moods,  of  sibilant  gusts  of 
wind  and  intervals  of  brooding  stillness.  There  was  a 
pervasive  suggestion  of  moisture  in  the  air,  "but  as  yet  no 
rain.  The  odor  of  decaying  leaves  came  from  the  woods 
on  the  other  side  of  the  road.  The  sunshine  was  uncer- 
tain. White  clouds  were  silently  astir  in  the  upper  re- 
gions of  the  atmosphere  ;  among  the  distant  blue  ranges 
the  intervenient  valleys  could  be  distinctly  located  by  the 
mist  rising  from  them,  elusively  showing,  then  veiling 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  213 

the  farther  heights,  and  anon  falling  like  some  airy  cat- 
aract over  a  mountain  side,  seeming  to  cleave  it  in  twain, 
and  simulating  a  gap,  a  pass,  in  the  impenetrabilities  of 
the  massive  clifty  range.  The  little  stream  that  flowed 
along  on  the  other  side  of  the  rails  reflected  the  vacillat- 
ing sentiments  of  the  sky  :  now  a  cloud  driving  faster 
than  its  current  showed  upon  its  lustrous  olive-green  sur- 
face among  the  reflections  of  the  crimson  sumach  bushes 
that  lined  its  banks ;  and  now  it  glittered  in  a  burst  of 
sunshine  and  emulated  the  azure  of  the  changing  heav- 
ens. The  little  town  lay  at  a  considerable  distance  ; 
whether  it  hoped  to  grow  up  to  the  depot,  or  desired  the 
advantages  of  civilization  without  its  close  contact,  one 
might  speculate  in  vain.  Its  clustering  roofs  were  quite 
distinct  among  the  thinning  red  and  yellow  and  brown 
leaves  of  the  trees. 

A  number  of  loungers  waited  to  watch  the  train  pass ; 
for  it  was  only  a  short  time  since  the  road  had  been 
completed,  and  the  engine  was  still  a  mechanical  miracle 
in  the  estimation  of  many  of  the  country  people,  who 
came  sometimes  great  distances  to  see  it.  Harshaw  was 
going  down  to  attend  the  court  at  Glaston.  He  was 
much  smarter  than  usual,  although  he  wore  on  his  yellow 
head  a  soft  wide  hat,  which  gave  him  a  certain  highway- 
man-like aspect.  A  gay  necktie  of  blue  shot  silk  showed 
beneath  his  yellow  beard ;  his  stiffly  starched  cuffs, 
already  much  crumpled,  protruded  beneath  his  coat- 
sleeves. 

"  What  are  you  about,  my  friend  ?  Going  to  jump 
the  country  ?  "  he  demanded  of  the  deputy-sheriff,  who 
was  embarrassed,  and  replied  evasively  that  he  was 
waiting  to  see  a  man.  Harshaw  turned  to  greet  G win- 
nan,  who  was  also  going  off,  having  adjourned  the  court 
a  few  moments  too  late  the  preceding  evening  and  there- 
by failing  to  catch  the  night  train.  Harshaw  accosted 
him  with  a  full  expression  of  his  large,  bluff,  familiar 
manner.  It  was  received  with  a  certain  coolness,  which 
may  have  been  Gwinnan's  normal  social  temperature, 
but  Harshaw  was  keenly  alert  to  descry  significance,  and 


214  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

was  disposed  to  refer  it  to  the  hasty  threat  at  the  court- 
house door.  Gwinnan's  impassive  inexpressiveness  gave 
him  no  intimation  whether  or  not  it  had  been  repeated, 
and  as  the  judge  stood  looking  about  the  little  unpainted 
wooden  depot,  all  its  business  easily  to  be  comprised  in 
the  two  rooms,  Harshaw  began  to  detail  to  him  how 
much  the  road  had  cost,  how  it  was  hoped  it  would  aid 
in  developing  the  resources  of  the  country,  how  it  had 
already  begun  to  conduct  itself  like  a  sure  enough  grown- 
up railroad,  and  had  got  into  law.  Suddenly  the  two 
shining  parallel  rails  trembled  with  a  metallic  vibration. 
A  distant  roar  growing  ever  nearer  and  louder  impinged 
upon  the  air.  A  cloud  of  smoke  appeared  above  the 
trees,  and  with  a  glitter  of  burnished  metal,  a  turmoil 
of  sound,  a  swift  gliding  rush,  the  overpowering  im- 
perious presence  of  the  engine  gladdened  the  sight  of 
the  simple  country  folks. 

Gwinnan  was  silent  as  Harshaw  talked,  until  suddenly 
that  worthy  broke  off,  *4  Hello  !  what  "s  going  on  here  ?  " 

Some  distance  up  the  red  clay  road  from  the  direction 
of  the  town,  a  buggy  was  driven  at  a  furious  rate,  with 
the  evident  intention  of  forestalling  the  departure  of  the 
train. 

All  the  loungers  saw  it.  The  conductor  saw  it,  and 
yet  he  cried  out,  "  All  aboard ! "  and  sprang  upon  the 
platform  as  the  train  began  to  move.  The  by-standers 
understood  the  ruse  the  next  moment.  There  were  two 
men  in  the  buggy  :  one  was  handcuffed  ;  the  other  was 
the  sheriff.  The  deputy  and  two  guards  dragged  the 
prisoner  across  the  platform  and  upon  the  slowly  moving 
train,  which  forthwith  rattled  away  around  the  curve  at 
the  greatest  speed  of  which  it  was  capable,  leaving  the 
suspected  rescuers  gazing  blankly  at  it,  and  realizing 
that  because  of  the  insecurity  of  the  county  jail  Mink 
was  to  be  lodged  in  the  metropolitan  prison  of  Glaston. 

It  is  said  that  nothing  so  expands  the  mental  horizon 
as  the  experience  of  emotion.  In  this  sense  Mink  was 
becoming  a  wise  man.  He  knew  despair  not  as  a  word, 
a  theory,  a  sentiment,  but  in  its  baffled,  futile  finality. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  215 

He  had  conned  all  the  fine  vacillations  of  suspense.  He 
had  exhausted  the  delusions  of  hope. 

Only  the  passion  of  rage  had  as  yet  unsated  capaci- 
ties. As  he  sat  in  the  car,  shackled,  among  his  guards, 
he  fixed  his  shining  eyes,  full  of  suppressed  ferocity,  on 
Gwinnan's  face,  who  was  absorbed  in  a  book  and  heed- 
less of  his  fellow-travelers.  The  guards  did  not  notice 
the  prisoner's  gaze,  and  after  a  moment  it  was  diverted 
for  a  time.  For  Mink  had  quick  enough  perceptions 
and  no  mean  power  of  deduction.  He  divined  that  his 
guards  and  fellow-passengers  were  in  much  perturbation 
lest  the  train  should  be  stopped.  At  every  intersection 
of  the  country  roads  with  the  track  there  was  a  percep- 
tible flurry  amongst  them,  an  anxious  outlook  to  descry 
mounted  and  armed  men. 

He  had  himself  no  further  expectation  of  deliverance. 

"  Nobody 's  goin'  ter  resk  ten  year  in  the  Pen'tiary 
fur  rescuin'  me  in  broad  daylight  whar  they  could  be 
knowed.  Ef  the  mob  wanted  ter  hang  me,  though,  they 
would,"  he  said,  with  the  cynicism  of  the  truth. 

"Nobody  wants  ter  hang  you-uns,  Mink,  nor  hurt  ye 
no-ways.  All  ye  need  is  a  leetle  patience  ter  wait  fur 
another  trial,"  said  the  deputy. 

"  I  ain't  got  no  mo'  patience,"  said  Mink  drearily. 

His  fatigued  faculties,  that  had  almost  sunk  into  stupor 
under  the  strain  of  excitement  and  suspense,  roused 
themselves  to  take  note  of  the  surroundings.  The  mo- 
tion of  the  train  filled  him  with  amaze.  He  held  his 
breath  to  see  the  fantasies  of  the  flying  landscape  with- 
out. The  panting  snorts  and  leaps  of  the  engine,  like 
some  great  living  monster,  the  dull  rolling  of  the  wheels, 
the  iterative  alternating  sound  of  the  clanking  machinery, 
each  registered  a  new  estimate  of  life  upon  his  intent, 
expressive  face.  His  eyes  rested  on  the  lamp  fixtures 
shining  in  their  places  as  if  he  beheld  enchantment. 
The  tawdry  ornamentation,  the  paneling  of  light  and 
dark  woods  with  occasional  glimmers  of  gilding,  the 
red  velvet  of  the  seats,  were  to  his  unaccustomed  eyes 
unparalleled  magnificence.  He  asked  no  questions.  He 


216  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

accepted  it  all  simply,  without  comment,  without  con- 
sciousness. His  fine  head,  with  its  rich  coloring  of  com- 
plexion and  eyes  and  hair,  looked  as  if  it  might  have 
been  painted  upon  the  panel  of  maple  on  which  it  leaned, 
he  sat  so  still.  His  hat  lay  on  the  seat  beside  him ;  he 
was  well  used  now  not  to  wear  it.  It  may  have  been 
because  he  was  innocent,  it  may  have  been  because  he 
felt  no  shame,  but  the  handcuffs  on  his  wrists  seemed 
not  more  ignominious  than  a  wild  creature's  captivity. 

He  had  been  so  docile,  so  unresisting  all  the  morning, 
that  the  deputy,  who  "had  grown  to  like  the  young  fellow 
in  their  constrained  intercourse,  and  valued  him  far  more 
than  a  duller  and  a  better  man-,  was  disposed  to  treat  him 
as  gently  as  was  consistent  with  duty.  The  guards  were 
jolly  and  they  joked  with  him ;  but  he  had  little  to  say, 
and  presently  they  talked  to  each  other,  and  looked  over 
their  shoulders  at  the  rest  of  the  company,  covertly  en- 
tertaining themselves  with  such  fragments  of  the  conver- 
sation as  the  roaring  and  clangor  of  the  train  permitted 
to  be  audible.  They  noticed  after  a  time  that  the  sur- 
roundings had  ceased  to  interest  him,  and  that  he  was 
looking  with  lowering  and  surly  ferocity  at  Judge  Gwin- 
nan,  intent  upon  his  book. 

"  Look-a-hyar,"  said  one  of  the  guards,  nudging  Mink 
violently,  "  ye  'pear  like  some  wild  varmint.  Ye  look 
ez  keen  an'  wicked  an'  mean  ez  a  mink.  Quit  eyin' 
Jedge  Gwinnan  like  that,  else  I  '11  blindfold  ye,  —  sure 's 
ye  born,  I  will." 

Mink's  dilated  eyes  rested  upon  the  unconscious,  half- 
averted  face  for  a  moment  longer.  Then  they  turned 
to  the  face  of  the  deputy  in  front  of  him. 

"  That  thar  man,"  he  said  between  his  set  teeth,  and 
for  all  his  voice  was  low  it  was  distinct,  even  in  the 
rumbling  and  noise  of  the  train,  so  charged  it  was  with 
the  emphasis  of  intention,  the  definiteness  of  a  cherished 
revenge,  —  "  d  'ye  know  what  he  hev  done  ter  me  ?  He 
put  Pete  Hood  on  the  jury,  though  he  knowed  Pete 
hated  me,  an'  why.  He  put  the  jury  in  jail,  'kase  they 
war  fools,  an'  'lowed  they  hed  a  harnt  on  the  panel,  an' 


7.V   THE   CLOUDS.  217 

bein'  jailed  conflusticated  'em  so  they  couldn't  find  a 
verdict.  He  knows  an'  they  know  Tad  's  alive,  but  I  hev 
got  ter  bide  in  jail  fower  month  longer  an'  resk  the  Pen- 
'tiary  agin,  account  o'  a  drownded  boy  ez  hev  run  away. 
An'  when  my  friends  wanted  ter  take  me  out'n  jail,  — 
God  A'mighty  !  I  did  n't  know  I  lied  sech  friends,  —  he 
goes  out'n  his  way  ter  tell  the  sher'ff  how  ter  flustrate 
'em.  An'  I  war  gagged  an'  ironed,  an'  toted  out'n  the 
back  door,  an'  kep'  at  the  sher'ff's  house,  an'  am  tuk  off 
011  the  train.  'T  war  n't  his  business.  Ye  know  thar  war 
n't  ez  much  ez  that  done  whenst  the  lynchers  kem  fur 
Tim  Jenkins,  —  not  ter  save  the  man's  life." 

"  Waal,  he  hed  ter  be  hung  some  time,  ennyhow,"  said 
the  deputy  indisputably. 

"  What  did  this  hyar  Jedge  Gwinnan  do  all  this  hyar 
fur  ?  "  continued  Mink. 

"  Waal,  Mink,  he  war  obleeged  ter,  by  his  office.  Ye 
know  I  don't  hold  no  grudge  ter  ye,  yit  I  'm  'bleeged  ter 
iron  ye  an'  gyard  ye.  I  could  n't  set  no  mo'  store  by  ye 
ef  ye  war  my  own  blood  relation,"  said  the  deputy. 

k'  Naw,  sir !  naw  !  "  exclaimed  Mink.  "  This  hyar 
man  have  tuk  a  notion  ter  Lethe  Sayles,  —  I  seen  it ;  an' 
he  lows  I  ain't  good  enough  fur  her,  an'  he  be  doin'  sech 
ez  he  kin  agin  me  on  account  o'  her." 

The  deputy  sheriff  broke  into  a  horse-laugh.  The 
others  laughed,  too,  more  moderately.  "  Ye  air  teched 
in  the  head,  Mink,"  one  of  them  remarked. 

"  Mebbe  so,"  Mink  responded  quietly  enough,  but 
with  a  glancing  gleam  in  his  dark  eyes.  "  But  I  '11  re- 
member what  he  hev  done  ter  me.  An'  I  '11  git  even 
with  him  fur  it.  By  the  Lord,  I  '11  git  even  with  him 
fur  it.  An'  ye  shell  see  the  day." 

He  leaned  back  against  the  window,  with  his  eyes 
bright,  his  lips  curving,  tossing  his  tangled  hair  with  a 
quick,  excited  gesture,  as  if  he  saw  his  revenge  an  ac- 
complished fact. 

Somehow  his  look  impressed  the  guards. 

u  Naw,  ye  won't,"  said  one  of  them.  "  Ye  won't  do 
nuthin'  like  it.  Ye  air  goin'  ter  jail/bwer  month,  an'  ar- 


218  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

ter  that  ter  the  Pen'tiary  Jive  year,  an'  time  ye  git  out'n 
thar  ye  '11  be  so  powerful  pleased  ter  be  foot-loose  ye  '11 
mind  yer  manners  the  rest  o'  yer  days,  an'  ye  will  hev 
clean  furgot  Jedge  Gwimian." 

He  evidently  thought  some  harshness  salutary.  Mink 
made  no  reply,  and  they  presently  fell  to  talking  together 
of  their  town  affairs  and  gossip,  excluding  him  from  the 
conversation,  in  which,  in  truth,  he  desired  to  take  no 
bhare. 


XVI. 

IN  contrast  with  the  steam-cars,  the  old  ox-cart  was  a 
slow  way  of  getting  through  the  world,  and  had  little  of 
that  magnificence  which  forced  itself  upon  Mink's  jaded 
and  preoccupied  faculties.  But  as  Alethea  turned  her 
face  toward  the  mountains,  it  seemed  the  progress  into 
Paradise,  so  happy  was  she  in  the  belief  that  the  rescuers 
had  prevailed.  For  she,  aunt  Dely,  and  Jerry  Price 
had  left  town  early  that  morning,  before  doubts  and  con- 
tradictions were  astir.  The  waning  yellow  moon  still 
swung  high  in  the  sky,  above  the  violet  vapors  of  the 
level  west.  Long  shadows  were  stalking  athwart  the 
fields  and  down  the  woodland  ways,  as  if  some  mystic 
beings  of  the  night  were  getting  them  home.  A  gust  of 
wind  came  shivering  along  the  road  once  and  again, — 
an  invisible,  chilly  presence,  that  audibly  rustled  its 
weird  garments  and  convulsively  caught  its  breath,  and 
was  gone.  Above  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains  the  in- 
expressible splendors  of  the  day-star  glowed  and  burned. 
She  walked  behind  the  cart  much  of  the  time  with  Jerry, 
while  aunt  Dely  sat,  a  shapeless  mass,  within  it.  A 
scent  of  tar  issued  from  its  clumsy  wheels,  heavy  with 
the  red  clay  mire  of  many  a  mile  ;  a  rasping  creak  ex- 
uded from  its  axles,  in  defiance  of  wagon-grease.  The 
ox  between  his  shafts  had  a  grotesque  burliness  in  the 
moonlight.  The  square,  unpainted  little  vehicle  was  a 
quaint  contrivance.  Four  of  the  dogs  ran  beneath  it,  in 
leash  with  their  nimble  shadows.  And  aunt  Dely's  sun- 
bonneted  head,  nodding  with  occasional  lapses  into  sleep, 
was  faithfully  reproduced  in  the  antics  of  the  silhouettes 
upon  the  ground  that  journeyed  with  them. 

Now  and  again  the  Scolacutta   River  crossed  their 


220  IN   THE   CLOUDS. 

way  in  wide,  shining  curves  scintillating  with  the  stars, 
and  then  Alethea  would  perch  upon  the  tail-board,  and 
Jerry  would  clamber  into  his  place  as  driver,  and  the 
dogs  would  yelp  and  wheeze  on  the  bank,  reluctant  to 
swim,  and  the  ox  would  plunge  in,  sometimes  with  a 
muttered  low  of  surprise  to  find  the  water  so  cold. 
Fording  the  stream  was  slow  work  ;  the  wheels  often 
scraped  against  great  hidden  bowlders,  threatening  dislo- 
cation and  destruction  to  the  running  gear.  The  transit 
was  attended  with  a  coruscation  of  glittering  showers  of 
spray,  and  left  a  foaming  track  across  the  swift  current. 
Sometimes  it  was  a  hard  pull  up  the  steep,  rocky  bank 
opposite.  The  old  ox  had  a  sober  aspect,  a  resolute 
tread,  and  insistently  nodding  horns.  His  sturdy  rustic 
demeanor  might  have  suggested  that  he  was  glad  to  be 
homeward  bound,  and  to  turn  his  back  upon  the  frivoli- 
ties of  civilization  and  fashion.  Not  so  aunt  Dely.  It 
seemed  for  a  time  as  if  her  enforced  withdrawal  from 
these  things  had  impaired  her  temper.  She  woke  up 
ever  and  anon  with  caustic  remarks. 

"  I  reckon  now,  Lethe  Ann  Sayles,  ye  be  goin'  ter 
bide  along  o'  yer  step-mother  ?  " 

"  Ye  know  that 's  my  home.     I  hev  ter,  aunt  Dely." 

The  girl's  voice  was  clear,  sweet,  thrilling  with  glad- 
ness, like  some  suddenly  awakened  bird's  singing  a  stave 
before  dawn. 

"  I  b'lieve  ye  !  "  satirically.  u  Ennybody  but  you-uns 
would  be  'shamed  ter  own  up  ez  ye  hev  got  no  home. 
Old  ez  ye  be,  an'  ye  ain't  married  yit !  How  old  be  ye  ? 
Lemme  see,"  —  with  a  tone  intimating  that  she  would 
give  no  quarter,  —  "  nineteen  year,  five  month,  an'  fower 
days.  It 's  plumb  scandalous,"  she  muttered,  arranging 
her  shawl  about  her.  "  Ye  Bluff  !  "  addressing  the  ox 
in  a  querulous  crescendo,  "ye  goin'  ter  jolt  the  life 
out'n  me,  a-tryin'  ter  ape  the  gait  o'  the  minchin'  sinners 
ye  seen  in  Shaftesville  !  Actially  the  steer  hev  got  the 
shuffles  !  I  tell  ye,  Sodom  an'  G  morrah  war  n't  nowhar 
fur  seethin'  sin  ter  Shaftesville.  The  devil  be  a-gatherin' 
his  harvest  thar.  His  bin  an'  barn  air  full.  Them  folks 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  221 

will  know  some  day  ez  store  clothes  ain't  no  defense  agin 
fire.  They  hev  bartered  thar  salvation  fur  store  clothes. 
But  I  do  wisht,"  she  broke  off  suddenly,  dropping  her 
voice  from  her  sanctimonious  whine  to  her  cheery  drawl, 
"  I  hed  one  o'  them  ready-made  sun-bonnets.  I  hed 
traded  off  all  my  feathers  an'  truck  for  store  sugar  an' 
sech  afore  I  seen  'em.  I  was  so  full  o'  laff  that  I  could 
n't  keep  my  face  straight  whenst  I  vievted  the  contriv- 
ance." 

The  darkness  had  fled  ;  the  moonlight  had  failed  ;  the 
fine,  chastened  pallor  of  the  interval  —  the  moment's 
pause  before  the  dawn  —  showed  the  colorless  sky,  the 
massive  dusky  mountains,  the  stretches  of  woods  below, 
almost  leafless  now,  the  gaunt,  tawny  fields  here  and 
there,  the  zigzag  lines  of  the  rail  fences,  the  red  clay 
road.  There  were  gullies  of  such  depth  on  either  side 
that  the  ox,  who  received  so  little  supervision  that  he  ap- 
peared to  have  the  double  responsibility  of  drawing  and 
driving  the  cart,  demonstrated,  in  keeping  out  of  pitfalls, 
ampler  intellectual  capacities  than  are  usually  credited  to 
the  bovine  tribe.  But  indeed  his  gifts  were  recognized. 
"  I  ain't  s'prised  none  ef  some  day  Bluff  takes  ter  talk- 
in',"  his  mistress  often  averred,  with  her  worldly  pride  in 
her  possessions. 

The  wind  freshened ;  the  white  frost  gleamed ;  a  pale 
flush,  expanding  into  a  suffusion  of  amber  light,  irradi- 
ated the  sky ;  and  the  great  red  wintry  sun  rose  slowly 
above  the  purple  ranges. 

They  had  barely  passed  through  a  gap  of  the  moun- 
tains and  entered  Eskaqua  Cove,  when  they  saw  riding 
along  an  intersecting  road  close  to  the  bank  of  the  river 
a  girl  in  a  yellow  homespun  dress,  with  a  yellow  bonnet 
on  her  head,  and  mounted  on  a  great  white  mare.  She 
had  the  slaie  of  a  loom  in  her  hand  which  she  had  bor- 
rowed of  a  neighbor,  and  which  served  to  explain  her 
early  errand. 

Alethea,  in  her  joy,  had  forgotten  Elvira  Crosby's 
sneers  and  gibes  the  night  she  had  brought  to  the  Hol- 
low the  raccoon  which  Mink  had  given  her.  All  other 


222  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

considerations  were  dwarfed  by  the  rapturous  idea  that 
he  was  at  liberty.  Eager  to  tell  the  news,  she  sprang 
forward. 

"  Elviry  !  "  she  cried.  The  girl  drew  up  her  mare 
and  turned  about.  Alethea  ran  down  the  road  and 
caught  the  bridle.  u  Elviry,"  she  reiterated,  "Reuben 
air  out  o'  jail !  He  's  free  !  He  's  free  !  " 

The  news  was  not  received  as  she  expected.  Elvira 
put  back  her  bonnet  from  the  soft  rings  of  short  hair 
that  lay  about  her  head.  She  fixed  her  dark  eyes  on 
Alethea  in  doubting  surprise. 

"  Waal,"  she  demanded,  as  if  herself  sitting  in  judg- 
ment, "  who  killed  Tad  ?  " 

"  Tad  be  alive  ez  I  be !  "  cried  Alethea,  harried  by 
the  reawakening  of  those  questions  which  she  had 
thought  were  forever  set  at  rest. 

"An'  did  the  jury  say  sech?"  Elvira  asked.  It  might 
have  seemed  that  with  the  breach  between  her  and  Mink 
irreparable,  she  was  not  rejoiced  to  hear  of  his  good  for- 
tune. 

"The  jury  could  n't  'gree,"  said  Alethea  breathlessly. 
"  The  rescuers  tuk  him  out." 

"  Sech  ez  that  be  agin  the  law,"  said  Elvira  staidly. 

"  I  ain't  keerin'  fur  the  law  !  "  cried  Alethea.  "  He 
hev  done  no  harm,  an'  all  the  kentry  knowed  it.  An'  't 
war  n't  right  ter  keep  him  cooped  in  jail.  So  they  tuk 
him  out." 

She  lifted  her  head  and  smiled.  Ah,  did  she  indeed 
look  upon  a  wintry  landscape  with  those  eyes  ?  So  irra- 
diated with  the  fine  lights  of  joy,  so  soft,  they  were,  it 
might  seem  they  could  reflect  only  endless  summers. 
The  gaunt,  bleak  mountains  shivered  in  the  niggardli- 
ness of  the  averted  sun  ;  the  wind  tossed  her  loose  locks 
of  golden  hair  from  beneath  her  brown  bonnet  as  if  they 
were  flouts  to  the  paler  beams. 

Elvira  looked  down  at  her  with  the  pitiless  enmity  of 
envy. 

"  Waal,"  she  said,  "  'twixt  ye  two  ye  hev  done  me  a 
powerful  mean  turn.  Mink  kep'  a-tryin'  ter  cut  out  Pete 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  223 

Rood  till  I  did  n't  know  my  own  mind.  An'  then  ye 
a-tellin'  them  tales  'bout  harnts  till  Pete  drapped  dead, 
—  ye  knowin'  he  hed  heart  -  disease  !  Yes,  sir,  he  's 
dead  ;  buried  right  over  yander  in  the  graveyard  o'  the 
church-house  in  the  cove.  An'  I  reckon  ye  be  sati'fied 
now,  —  ef  ye  kin  be  sati'fied." 

She  looked  away  over  the  swift  flow  of  the  river,  and 
began  to  fleck  her  shoe  with  the  hickory  switch  she  car- 
ried. 

Alethea's  face  fell.  She  still  stood  holding  the  mare's 
rein,  but  aunt  Dely's  voice  had  broken  upon  the  silence. 
For  Bluff  had  followed  Alethea  when  she  turned  from 
the  main  road,  and  had  refused  to  be  guided  by  Mrs. 
Purvine's  acrid  remonstrance.  As  to  Jerry,  he  was 
stalking  on  ahead,  unaware  that  the  others  were  not 
close  on  his  steps.  Sawing  upon  the  ropes  on  Bluff's 
horns  which  served  for  reins,  Mrs.  Purvine  succeeded  in 
drawing  him  up  when  she  reached  the  spot  where  the 
two  girls  stood.  She  suddenly  joined  in  the  conversa- 
tion with  an  astute  intention. 

"  Yes,  sir,  Mink  's  out,"  she  said,  confirming  her 
niece's  statement.  "  An'  ye  '11  hev  ter  do  mighty  little 
tollin'  ter  git  him  back  agin,  Elviry,"  she  added  beguil- 
ingly. 

"  I  don't  want  no  jail-bird  roun'  me,"  said  Elvira,  with 
a  toss  of  her  head. 

"  Mebbe  ye  air  right,  child  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Purvine. 
"  That 's  edzacly  what  I  tole  Lethe."  She  nodded  gayly, 
and  her  head-gear,  swaying  with  the  expressive  gesture, 
could  not  have  seemed  more  jaunty  had  it  been  a  ready- 
made  sun-bonnet  from  the  store.  "  Ye  mark  my  words, 
Lethe  air  goin'  ter  marry  a  man  she  seen  in  Shaftes- 
ville."  Elated  with  this  effort  of  imagination,  she  con- 
tinued, inspirationally,  "  He  'lowed  she  war  a  plumb 
beauty,  beat  ennything  he  ever  dreampt  could  hev  kem 
out'n  the  mountings.  He  air  a  town  man,  an'  he  be  a 
fust-rate  one." 

"  Oh,  aunt  Dely !  "  faltered  Alethea,  amazed  and  al- 
most speechless. 


224  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

But  aunt  Dely,  charmed  with  the  image  she  had  con- 
jured up,  had  no  mind  to  relinquish  this  mythical  man, 
and  added  aribther  touch  of  verisimilitude  :  "  He  's  well 
off,  too.  Lethe,  she  don't  keer  nuthin'  'bout  riches,  but 
bein'  ez  I  hev  'sociated  so  much  with  town  folks,  I  sorter 
set  store  by  worldly  goods,  —  though  not  enough  ter  resk 
my  soul's  salvation,  nuther." 

Aunt  Dely's  evident  desire  was  to  combine  spiritual 
and  material  welfare,  and  in  this  she  was  not  unlike 
more  sophisticated  religionists. 

The  opinionated  Bluff  being  induced  to  turn  around  at 
last,  Mrs.  Purvine  let  fly  a  Parthian  dart :  "•  But  ez  ter 
you-uns,  Elviry,  I  dunno  whether  ye  hed  better  be  lookin' 
down  on  fust  one  boy,  an'  then  another.  Ye  '11  git  lef 
hyar  a  lonesome  single  woman,  the  fust  thing  ye  know, 
—  the  only  one  in  the  cove  !  But  then,  mebbe  ye  'd  bet- 
ter jes'  bow  yer  mind  ter  the  dispensation,  fur  arter  all 
ye  mought  n't  be  able  ter  ketch  Mink.  The  gals  honey 
him  up  so  ez  he  air  toler'ble  sp'iled  ;  they  'low  he  air 
special  good-lookin',  though  I  hev  never  been  able  ter 
see  good  looks  in  him  sence  he  kem  ter  my  house,  one 
night,  an'  bedeviled  my  front  steps  so  ez  they  hev  never 
been  so  stiddy  sence." 

"  Aunt  Dely,"  cried  Alethea,  when  they  were  once 
more  on  their  homeward  way,  "  what  ailed  ye  ter  tell 
Elviry  sech  a  pack  o'  "  —  Respect  for  her  elders  re- 
strained her. 

"  I  war  prompted  by  my  conscience !  "  replied  the 
logical  Mrs.  Purvine,  unexpectedly.  "  I  can't  be  at 
peace  with  my  conscience  'thout  doin'  all  I  kin  ter  pur- 
vent  a  spry,  good-lookin'  gal  like  you-uns  from  marryin' 
a  wuthless  critter  sech  ez  Mink  Lorey."  She  made  no 
secret  of  her  designs.  "  He  be  good  a  plenty  an'  ter 
spare  fur  that  thar  snake-eyed  Elviry  Crosby,  but  I 
want  ye  ter  marry  Jerry  Price,  an'  kem  an'  live  along  o' 
me." 

The  immaterial  suitor  evolved  by  Mrs.  Purvine's  con- 
science dwelt  in  Alethea's  mind  with  singular  consistency 
and  effect  afterward.  When  she  was  once  more  in 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  225 

Wild-Cat  Hollow,  and  day  after  day  passed,  —  short 
days  they  were,  of  early  winter,  —  and  Mink  did  not 
come,  expectation  was  supplanted  by  alternations  of  hope 
and  disappointment,  and  they  in  their  turn  by  fear  and 
despair.  Was  it  possible,  she  asked  herself,  that  he 
could  have  heard  and  credited  this  fantastic  invention  of 
Mrs.  Pur  vine's  affection  and  pride ;  that  Elvira  had  poi- 
soned his  mind ;  that  he  was  jealous  and  angry ;  that  for 
this  he  had  held  aloof  ?  Then  the  recollection  of  their 
old  differences  came  upon  her.  His  sorrows  had  oblit- 
erated them  in  her  contemplation.  It  did  not  follow, 
however,  that  they  had  brought  her  nearer  to  him.  He 
had  long  ago  fallen  away  from  her.  Why  should  she 
expect  that  he  would  return  now?  She  remembered 
with  a  new  interpretation  his  joyous  relief  the  morning 
that  she  had  told  to  him  and  his  lawyer  in  the  jail  the 
story  of  her  glimpse  of  Tad ;  although  she  had  shared 
his  gratulation,  it  was  for  his  sake  alone.  She  remem- 
bered his  burning  eyes  fixed  with  fiery  reproaches  upon 
her  face  in  the  court-room,  when  the  disclosure  was  elic- 
ited that  it  was  in  a  graveyard  she  had  seen  the  missing 
boy.  After  all,  she  had  done  nothing  for  him  ;  her  tes- 
timony had  fostered  doubt  and  roused  superstition,  and 
other  and  stronger  friends  had  effected  his  release. 

She  became  silent,  sober-eyed,  and  absorbed,  and  went 
mechanically  about  the  house.  Her  changed  demeanor 
occasioned  comment  from  Mrs.  Jessup,  who  sat  idle,  with 
a  frowzy  head  and  an  active  snuff-brush,  by  the  fireside 
instead  of  011  the  porch,  as  in  the  summer  days.  "  When 
Lethe  fust  kem  back  from  Shaftesville  she  'peared  sorter 
peart  an'  livened  up.  Her  brain  war  shuck  up,  some- 
how, by  her  travels.  I  'lowed  she  war  a-goin'  ter  behave 
arter  this  like  sure  enough  folks,  —  but  shucks !  she 
'pears  ter  be  feared  ter  open  her  mouth,  else  folks  '11 
know  she  hev  got  a  tongue  'twixt  her  teeth."  For  Ale- 
thea  found  it  hard  now  to  reply  to  the  continued  queries 
of  Mrs.  Sayles  and  Mrs.  Jessup,  who  had  relished  her 
opportunity,  and  in  the  girl's  observation  of  village  life 
were  enjoying  all  the  benefits  of  travel  without  imping- 


226  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

ing  upon  their  inertia  or  undertaking  its  fatigues.  The 
elder  woman  sat  smoking  in  the  corner,  her  pink  sun- 
bonnet  overhanging  her  pallid,  thin  face,  ever  and  anon 
producing  a  leaf  of  badly  cured  tobacco,  and  drying  it 
upon  the  hearthstone  before  serving  her  pipe.  Now  and 
then  she  chuckled  silently  and  toothlessly  at  some  detail 
of  the  gossip.  It  had  hurt  the  girl  to  know  how  little 
they  cared  for  the  true  object  of  the  expedition.  Mink 
Lorey  was  naught  to  them,  and  they  did  not  affect  a 
picturesque  humanity  which  they  did  not  feel. 

"  Waal,  sir !  "  Mrs.  Sayles  would  say,  "  I  '11  be  bound 
them  town  folks  air  talkin'  'bout  Dely  Purvine  yit.  I 
jes'  kin  view  in  the  sperit  how  she  went  a-boguein'  roun' 
that  town,  stare-gazin'  everything,  like  she  war  raised 
nowhar,  an'  war  n't  used  ter  nuthin'.  Did  n't  the  folks 
laff  powerful  at  yer  aunt  Dely  ?  " 

"  I  never  seen  nobody  laffin',"  protested  Alethea, 
loyally. 

Jacob  Jessup,  sober  enough,  but  surly,  was  wont  also 
to  sit  in  these  days  idle  by  the  fire.  The  farm  work, 
such  as  it  was,  had  been  done.  The  stock  he  fed  when 
he  liked.  He  chose  to  consider  Alethea's  metropolitan 
trip  as  a  bit  of  personal  self-assertion,  and  sneered  when- 
ever it  was  mentioned,  and  sought  to  ignore  it  as  far  as 
he  might.  For  his  own  part,  he  had  never  been  to 
Shaftesville,  and  he  grudged  her  the  distinction.  He 
would  not  recognize  it ;  he  treated  the  fact  as  if  it  were 
not,  and  thus  he  extinguished  it.  He  seemed  somehow, 
as  he  sprawled  idly  about,  to  take  up  much  more  room 
by  the  fire  than  the  women,  despite  their  skirts,  and  he 
was  often  engaged  in  altercations  with  the  dogs,  the 
children,  and  the  pet  cub  as  to  the  space  they  occupied. 
The  bear  had  been  reared  in  a  bad  school  for  his  man- 
ners ;  he  had  grown  intelligent  and  impudent  and  selfish 
in  captivity  among  his  human  friends.  He  would  stretch 
himself  along  the  hearth  in  front  of  the  family,  absorb- 
ing all  the  heat,  snarling,  and  showing  his  teeth  some- 
times, but  steeling  himself  in  his  fur  and  his  fat  and  his 
fortitude,  and  withstanding  kicks  and  blows  till  his  per- 


IN  THE    CLOUDS.  227 

secutor  was  tired.  Sometimes  Jessup  would  catch  him 
by  the  rolls  of  fat  about  his  neck  and  drag  him  to  the 
door,  but  the  nimble  beast  would  again  be  stretched  upon 
the  hearthstones  before  the  man  could  reach  his  chair. 
Jessup  did  the  brute  no  great  hurt,  for,  lowering  and  ill- 
natured  as  the  fellow  was,  he  was  kindly  disposed  toward 
animals,  and  this  made  the  more  marked  a  sort  of  spite 
which  he  seemed  to  entertain  toward  the  raccoon  which 
Mink  had  given  Elvira,  and  which  she  had  brought  to 
Alethea.  The  grotesque  creature  was  in  some  sort  a 
domestic  martyr.  As  it  scuttled  about  the  uneven  pun- 
cheon floor,  he  would  affect  to  stumble  over  it,  swear  at 
it,  seize  it  by  the  tail,  and  fling  it  against  the  wall.  But 
the  coon's  griefs  were  readily  healed.  It  would  skulk 
away  for  a  time,  and  then  be  seen  eating  stolen  deli- 
cacies in  its  dainty  fashion,  washing  the  food  between 
its  two  fore-paws  in  the  drinking  pail.  Old  man  Sayles, 
silent,  subdued,  sat  a  sort  of  alien  at  his  own  fireside, 
sorting  seeds,  and  bits  of  tobacco,  buttons,  herbs,  tiny 
gourds,  which  went  by  the  name  of  "  lumber  "  with 
him,  in  a  kind  of  trough  beneath  the  window  that  served 
in  lieu  of  sill.  Now  and  then  he  passed  his  hand  over 
his  head  and  sighed.  Perhaps  he  regretted  his  second 
matrimonial  venture  ;  for  the  domestic  scene  was  one  of 
frowzy  confusion,  very  pronounced  when  crowded  into 
one  small  room,  instead  of  being  shared  with  the  porch, 
which  the  wind  swept  now  and  shook,  and  where  the 
mists  congregated  in  the  evenings  or  the  frosts  con- 
vened. The  Jessup  children  were  shrill  at  play.  The 
baby  had  got  on  its  feet,  and  was  walking  into  every- 
thing,—  unwary  pans  and  kettles  and  tubs  of  water. 
Tige's  overbearing  disposition  was  very  manifest  in  his 
capacity  as  fireside  companion.  And  when  the  chimney 
smoked,  and  L'onidas  preferred  his  complaints  at  Ale- 
thea's  side  as  she  sat  and  carded  wool,  and  the  cub 
leaned  his  weight  against  her  as  he  contemplated  the 
fire  with  his  head  upon  her  knee,  and  her  scep-mother 
scolded,  and  Jacob  Jessup  fumed  and  contradicted,  and 
the  experimental  baby  brought  down  the  churn  with  a 


228  iff  THE  CLOUDS. 

crash,  while  the  cat  lapped  amidst  the  waste,  Mrs.  Jes- 
sup  would  shift  her  snuff-brush  to  the  other  corner  of 
her  pretty  mouth,  and  demand,  "  Now  ain't  Lethe  a 
plumb  fool  ter  live  hyar  along  o'  sech  cavortin'  ways  up 
011  the  side  o'  a  mounting,  a-waitin'  fur  a  pore  wuthless 
scamp  like  Mink  Lorey,  when  she  could  hev  a  house  ter 
herself  in  Piomingo  Cove,  with  no  hendrance  but  Ben 
Doaks,  a  quiet  respectable  boy,  ez  I  don't  look  down  on 
'kase  he  ain't  got  religion  !  I  know  some  folks  ez  religion 
itself  can't  holp." 

Sometimes,  however,  —  it  was  at  long  intervals,  — 
even  Mrs.  Jessup  would  be  summoned  to  rouse  herself 
from  the  heavy  sluggishness  that  made  all  exertion,  be- 
yond the  necessary  routine,  positive  pain.  The  code  of 
etiquette  that  prevails  in  the  mountains,  simple  as  it  is, 
has  yet  its  rigorous  requirements ;  and  when  the  death 
of  a  kinsman  in  Eskaqua  Cove  presently  occurred,  the 
graceless  creature  deplored  it  less  than  the  supervening 
necessity  of  attending  the  obsequies.  There  was  no 
snow,  nor  ice,  nor  rain,  to  urge  as  an  excuse.  The 
weather  was  singularly  fine  and  dry.  It  was  easier  get- 
ting down  the  mountain  now  than  in  the  summer.  And 
so  she  was  constrained  to  go. 

The  sunshine  was  still,  languid ;  the  air  was  calm. 
Wild-Cat  Hollow  wore  its  wintry  aspect,  although  below 
in  the  cove  one  might  have  glimpses  of  red  and  yellow, 
as  if  the  autumn  yet  lingered.  Everywhere  there  was  a 
wider  outlook  because  of  the  denudation  of  the  woods, 
and  the  landscape  was  the  more  gaunt,  the  more  rug- 
ged. It  was  like  a  mind  stripped  of  the  illusions -of 
youth  ;  the  stern  facts  are  the  plainer,  and  alas  !  more 
stern.  The  purplish-garnet  hue  of  the  myriads  of  bare 
boughs  in  the  forests  covering  the  mountain  slopes  con- 
trasted with  the  indeterminate  blue  of  the  sky.  There 
was  a  fibrous  effect  in  their  fine  detail ;  even  the  great 
mass,  seen  at  a  distance,  was  like  some  delicate  pencil- 
ing. Singularly  still  it  was,  the  air  very  dry ;  the  dead 
leaves  on  the  ground  did  not  rustle ;  the  corn-stalks, 
standing  withered  and  yellow  in  the  fields,  did  not  stir. 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  229 

The  only  motion  was  the  slow  shifting  of  the  shadows  as 
the  day  went  on,  and  perhaps  high,  high  even  above  the 
Great  Smoky,  a  swift  passing  of  wild  geese  flying  south- 
ward, their  cabalistic  syllable  Houk !  Jwuk !  floating 
down,  seeming  in  the  silence  strangely  intoned  and  mys- 
terious. At  night  a  new  moon  looked  through  the  rigid, 
naked  trees.  The  feeble  glimmer  from  the  little  log 
cabin  was  solitary.  The  stars  themselves  were  hardly 
more  aloof  from  the  world.  The  narrow  vista  through 
the  gap  only  attested  how  darkly  indistinguishable  was 
the  cove,  how  annihilated  in  the  blackness  were  the 
mountains. 

No  sound  of  cattle  drifted  down  now  from  the  bald ; 
the  herds  were  gone ;  sometimes  in  the  midnight  the 
howl  of  a  wolf  echoed  and  re-echoed  in  all  the  tortuous 
ways  of  the  wilderness ;  then  silence,  that  seemed  to 
tremble  with  fear  of  the  reiteration  of  the  savage  cry. 
Alethea  was  prone  to  be  wakeful  and  sad  and  anxious, 
so  perhaps  it  was  well  that  she  had  much  to  occupy  her 
thoughts  during  the  day.  The  baby  fretted  for  his 
mother.  Mrs.  Jessup  was  not  a  model  mother,  but  she 
was  the  only  one  the  baby  had,  and  he  was  not  recreant 
to  filial  sentiment.  He  exacted  a  vast  number  of  petty 
attentions  from  Alethea  which  he  had  never  before  re- 
quired. Tige  and  the  cub  resented  the  pampering  she 
gave  him ;  they  were  jealous  and  made  their  feeling 
known  in  many  dumb  manifestations :  they  kept  them- 
selves sadly  in  the  way  ;  now  they  were  hungry  and  now 
they  were  thirsty,  and  they  whined  continually  about  her. 

She  hardly  noticed  at  first  that  a  thick  haze  had  ap- 
peared over  the  cove,  but  as  yet  did  not  dim  the  sky.  It 
climbed  the  mountain  sides,  and  hung  like  a  gauze  veil 
about  the  cabin  and  the  sheds.  Suddenly  she  became 
aware  of  the  pungent  odor  of  smoke.  She  put  the  child 
away  from  her,  as  "he  clung  to  her  skirts,  and  stepped  out 
upon  the  porch.  The  dog  and  cub  pressed  close  after 
her,  fancying  that  they  had  scored  one  against  the  baby, 
who  had  sunk,  squalling  because  of  his  desertion,  upon 
the  floor. 


230  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

She  looked  about  for  a  moment  at  the  still  white  pres- 
ence that  had  usurped  the  earth,  the  air,  the  sky. 

"  Somebody  hev  set  out  fire  in  the  woods  I  "  she  cried. 

"  Hev  ye  jes'  fund  that  out?  "  drawled  Jacob  Jessup, 
as  he  sat  on  the  porch.  Her  father  and  he  were  lan- 
guidly discussing  whether  they  should  fire  against  it.  It 
was  far  enough  away  as  yet,  they  thought,  and  with  the 
annual  conflagrations  in  the  woods  they  had  become  ex- 
perts in  judging  of  the  distance  and  of  the  emergencies 
of  fighting  fire  with  fire. 

She  listened  as  they  talked,  thinking  that  Sam  Mar- 
vin's home,  miles  away,  would  presently  be  in  danger,  if 
they  were  right  as  to  the  location  of  the  fire.  The  cruel 
flames  would  complete  the  desolation  she  had  wrought. 
Her  conscience  winced  always  at  the  recollection  of  its 
bare,  denuded  plight.  Some  small  reparation  was  sug- 
gested in  the  idea  that  she  might  save  it ;  she  might  go 
thither  now  and  fire  the  dead  leaves  on  the  slopes  below. 
Above  there  was  a  desolate,  barren  stretch  of  rocks,  cov- 
ering many  acres,  which  the  flames  could  hardly  over- 
leap. There  was  no  wind,  but  a  slight  stir  was  now  in 
the  air.  Its  current  was  down  the  mountain. 

She  set  out,  Tige  and  the  coon  with  her  :  the  wild 
thing  ambling  demurely  along  with  all  the  decorum  of 
cultivated  manners;  the  domestic  animal  barking  and 
leaping  before  her  in  mad  ecstasy  for  the  simple  privi- 
lege of  the  excursion.  The  cub  looked  after  them  from 
the  doorway,  whined,  and  crept  within  to  the  fire. 

As  she  went  she  was  vividly  reminded  of  the  day  when 
she  had  journeyed  thither  before,  although  the  woods 
had  then  worn  the  rich  guise  of  autumn,  and  they  were 
now  austere  and  bleak  arid  silent,  and  shrouded  in  the 
white  smoke.  She  evsen  noted  the  lick-log  at  the  forks 
of  the  road,  where  she  had  sat  and  trembled  and  debated 
within  herself.  She  wondered  if  what"  she  had  said  in 
the  court-room  would  pursue  the  moonshiner  in  his  hid- 
ing place.  Would  it  harm  him  ?  Had  she  done  right 
or  wrong  ? 

Still  walking  on  up  the  steep  slant  to  the  moonshiner's 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  231 

house,  seeing  only  a  yard  or  two  before  her,  she  at  last 
came  upon  the  fence.  She  paused  and  leaned  upon 
the  rails,  and  looked  about  her.  The  corn-field  com- 
prised more  acreage  than  is  usual  in  mountain  agricul- 
ture. The  destination  of  the  crop  was  not  the  limited 
legitimate  market  of  the  region.  It  was  planted  for  use 
in  the  still.  She  experienced  another  pang  when  she  real- 
ized that  it  too  was  a  grievous  loss ;  for  Sam  Marvin  had 
been  forced  to  leave  the  fruit  of  his  industry  when  it 
stood  immature.  Now,  early  in  December,  the  full  cri'sp 
ears  leaned  heavily  from  the  sere  stalk.  She  wondered 
that  the  abandoned  crop,  a  fine  one,  had  not  been  plun- 
dered. Then  she  bethought  herself  how  deep  in  the 
wilderness  it  stood  secluded.  All  at  once  she  heard  a 
rustling  among  the  corn.  Her  first  thought  was  the 
bear.  In  amaze  she  discerned  a  wagon  looming  hard  by 
in  the  smoke.  Then  the  indistinct  figures  of  a  man,  a 
woman,  and  a  half-grown  girl  came  slowly  down  the  turn 
row.  To  judge  from  their  gestures,  they  were  gather- 
ing the  corn. 


XVII. 

ALETHEA  stood  motionless  for  some  little  time,  still 
leaning  on  the  fence.  A  stalk  of  golden-rod,  brown  and 
withered,  its  glory  departed,  touched  the  rails  now  and 
then.  Its  slight,  infrequent  swaying  was  the  only  inti- 
mation of  wind,  except  that  the  encompassing  smoke, 
filling  the  vast  spaces  between  heaven  and  earth,  shifted 
occasionally,  the  dense  convolutions  silentlv  merging  into 
new  combinations  of  ill-defined  shapes,  —  colorless  phan- 
tasmagoria, dimly  looming.  It  might  have  seemed  as  if 
all  the  world  had  faded  out,  leaving  only  these  blurred 
suggestions  of  unrecognized  forms,  like  the  vestiges  of 
forgotten  aeons. 

Even  the  harvesters  did  not  maintain  always  a  human 
aspect.  Through  the  haze  they  were  grotesque,  dis- 
torted, gigantic  ;  their  hands  vaguely  visible,  now  lifted, 
now  falling,  in  their  deliberate  but  ceaseless  work.  They 
looked  like  vagrants  from  that  eccentric  populace  of 
dreams,  given  over  to  abnormal,  inconsequent  gestures, 
to  shifting  similitudes,  to  preposterous  conditions  and  fa- 
cile metamorphoses  of  identity.  Alethea  felt  a  strange 
doubt,  in  recognizing  Sam  Marvin,  whether  it  were  in- 
deed the  moonshiner  whom  she  saw. 

An  insistent  silence  possessed  the  air,  broken  only  by 
the  rustle  of  the  crisp  husks  as  the  three  dim  figures 
pulled  the  corn.  Suddenly  there  sounded  a  mad,  scut- 
tling rush,  shrill  canine  yelps,  and  a  series  of  nimble 
shadows  vaulted  over  the  fence.  The  coon  ran  up  a  tree, 
while  the  moonshiner's  dogs  ranged  themselves  beneath 
it,  with  upturned  heads  askew,  and  gloating,  baffled 
eyes,  and  moans  of  melancholy  frustration,  punctuated 
ever  and  anon  with  yaps  of  more  poignant  realization  of 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  233 

the  coon's  inaccessibility.  Tige,  irresolute,  showed  fight 
at  first  to  the  strangers  ;  then  he  too  sat  down,  and  with 
quivering  fore-paws  and  wagging  tail  wheezed  and  yelped 
at  his  fireside  companion,  as  if  he  had  no  personal  ac- 
quaintance with  the  raccoon,  had  held  with  him  no  re- 
lations of  enforced  amity,  and  could  not  wait  one  mo- 
ment to  crunch  his  bones. 

The  half-grown  girl,  desisting  from  her  work,  turned 
her  head  in  the  direction  of  the  noise,  and  caught  a 
glimpse  of  Alethea.  She  had  an  excited  eye,  high  cheek- 
bones, and  a  thin,  prominent  nose.  Her  face  looked  pe- 
culiarly sharp  inside  her  flabby  sun-bonnet.  She  was 
at  the  "growing  age,"  and  her  frock  was  consequently 
short  for  the  bare,  sun-embrowned  legs  which  protruded 
from  it.  Her  bare  feet  were  long  and  bony.  She 
seemed  to  be  growing  lengthwise  only,  for  her  shoulders 
were  narrow,  her  arms  slim.  She  had  a  callow,  half- 
fledged  look,  not  unlike  a  Shanghai  pullet.  Her  man- 
ner was  abrupt  and  fluttered,  and  her  voice  high  and 
shrill. 

"  Laws-a-massy  !  "  she  exclaimed,  jumping  precipi- 
tately backward  on  her  long,  attenuated  legs,  u  yander 's 
Lethe  Sayles  !  " 

Both  the  man  and  the  woman  started  violently,  —  not 
because  of  the  matter  of  the  disclosure,  but  of  its  man- 
ner, as  was  manifested  in  his  rebuke. 

"  By  Gosh,  Sereny !  ef  ye  ain't  mighty  nigh  skeered 
me  ter  death  !  "  he  cried  angrily.  "  S'pose  it  air  Lethe 
Sayles !  "  He  bowed  his  body  grotesquely  amidst  the 
smoke,  as  he  emphasized  his  reproof.  "  Air  she  enny- 
thing  so  powerful  oncommon  ez  ye  hev  ter  jump  ez 
sprightly  ez  ef  ye  hed  stepped  on  a  rattlesnake,  an' 
squeech  out  that-a-way  ?  Howdy,  Lethe,"  he  added, 
with  an  odd  contrast  of  a  calm  voice  and  a  smooth  man- 
ner, as  if  Alethea  were  deaf  to  these  amenities. 
"  Thrivin',  I  s'pose  ?  " 

Alethea  faltered  that  she  was  well,  and  said  no  more. 
The  imperative  consciousness  of  all  that  she  had  done 
against  him,  of  all  for  which  she  feared  him,  prevailed 


234  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

for  a  time.  She  knew  that  it  would  have  been  wiser  to 
venture  some  commonplace  civility,  and  then  go.  But 
that  insistent  conscience,  strong  within  her,  forbade  this. 
She  was  all  unprepared  now  for  the  disclosure  of  her  tes- 
timony in  the  court-room,  but  the  fact  that  she  had  ever 
intended  to  warn  him  made  it  seem  as  if  this  were  due. 
She  felt  as  if  she  had  missed  a  certain  fortification  of 
her  courage  in  that  she  had  not  had  the  privilege  of 
trembling  over  the  prospect,  of  familiarizing  herself  with 
it,  of  approaching  it  slowly,  but  none  the  less  surely,  by 
lessening  degrees  of  trepidation.  She  wondered  that  he 
did  not  look  at  her  with  more  of  the  indignation  which 
she  knew  he  must  feel  toward  her.  Bitterness,  however, 
was  acridly  manifested  in  the  woman's  manner,  her 
averted  head,  her  sedulous  silence.  She  continued  in- 
dustriously pulling  the  corn,  as  if  no  word  had  been 
spoken,  no  creature  stood  by.  The  gallinaceous  girl,  si- 
lent too,  returned  to  her  work,  but  often  looked  askance 
at  Alethea  over  her  shoulder. 

The  man  spoke  presently.  His  face  and  figure  were 
blurred  now  in  the  smoke.  It  was  as  if  a  shadow  had 
purloined  a  sarcastic  voice.  Alethea's  nerves  were  un- 
strung by  the  surprise  of  the  meeting,  and  the  fact  that 
she  could  see  only  this  elusive  suggestion  of  his  presence 
harassed  and  discomposed  her. 

"  Waal,  Lethe,  I  dunno  ez  I  be  s'prised  ter  see  ye.  I 
hev  seen  ye  sech  a  many  times  whenst  I  never  expected 
ye,  —  startin'  up  yander  at  Boke's  barn  ez  suddint  ez  ef 
ye  hed  yer  headquarters  in  the  yearth  or  the  sky.  An' 
jes'  at  this  junctry,  whenst  we  air  a-tryin'  ter  steal  our 
own  corn  away  from  hyar,  ye  kem  a-boundin'  out'n  the 
smoke,  like  ye  hed  no  abidin'  place  more  'n  a  witch  or 
that  thar  Herder  on  Thunderhead,  or  sech  harnts.  I 
never  see  yer  beat  ez  a  meddler.  Satan  ain't  no  busier 
with  other  folkses'  souls." 

She  made  no  reply.  The  shifting  vapor  hid  the  tree 
where  the  bright-eyed  coon  hung  fast  by  his  claws,  and 
the  wheezing  yapping  of  the  foiled  dogs  besieging  his 
stronghold  seemed  strangely  loud  and  near  since  they 
were  invisible. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  235 

The  shucks  rustled  sibilantly.  The  ears  of  maize 
fell  with  a  monotonous  sound  upon  the  heaps  in  the  turn 
row. 

"  What  did  the  revenuers  do  when  they  kem  up  the 
mounting  ?  "  Marvin  asked  suddenly.  His  tone  was  all 
alert  now  with  curiosity.  He  could  reserve  his  rebukes 
till  his  craving  for  gossip  should  be  satisfied.  Conversa- 
tion, a  fine  art  elsewhere,  assumes  the  dignity  of  a  priv- 
ilege in  these  sparsely  settled  wilds,  where  its  opportu- 
nities are  scant. 

"  They  ain't  never  kem,  ez  I  knows  on,"  said  Alethea 
tremulously.  They  might  come  yet,  and  here  he  was 
still  unwarned  and  at  the  mercy  of  accident.  She  had 
climbed  the  fence,  springing  lightly  down  on  the  other 
side,  and  had  mechanically  begun  to  assist  them  in  their 
work,  —  the  usual  courtesy  of  a  guest  in  the  mountains 
who  finds  the  host  employed. 

"  Slip-shuck  it,  Lethe,"  he  remarked,  calling  her  atten- 
tion to  the  fact  that  the  outer  husks  were  left  upon  the 
stalks,  and  the  ear,  enveloped  merely  in  its  inner  integu- 
ments, was  thrown  upon  the  heap.  u  I  hates  powerful 
ter  be  obleeged  ter  leave  all  this  hyar  good  roughness ;  " 
he  indicated  the  long  rows  of  shucks  upon  the  stalks. 
"  My  cattle  would  be  mighty  thankful  ter  hev  sech 
fedded  ter  'em.  But  the  corn  itself  air  about  ez  much 
ez  I  kin  haul  so  fur  "  — 

"  Don't  ye  tell  her  wharabouts  we-uns  lives  nowadays," 
broke  out  the  woman. 

She  was  standing  near  Alethea,  and  she  turned  and 
looked  at  her.  The  girl's  fresh  and  beautiful  counte- 
nance was  only  more  delicate,  more  sensitive,  with  that 
half-affrighted  perturbation  on  it,  that  piteous  deprecation.* 
The  elder  woman's  face  was  furrowed  and  yellow  in  con- 
trast ;  her  large,  prominent  eyes,  of  a  light,  hazel  color, 
were  full  of  tears,  and  had  a  look  as  if  tears  were  no 
unfamiliar  visitants.  She  wiped  them  away  with  the 
curtain  of  her  pink  sun-bonnet,  and  went  on  pulling  the 
corn. 

"  I  dunno  whar  Sam  Marvin  lives,  myself,"  the  moon- 


236  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

shiner  declared,  with  reckless  bravado.  "  I  don't  go  by 
that  name  no  mo'." 

He  straightened  up  and  set  his  arms  akimbo,  as  he 
laughed. 

"  Ye  need  n't  send  no  mo'  o'  yer  spies,  Lethe,  arter 
me,"  he  declared.  "My  neighbors  way  over  yander 
dunno  no  sech  man  ez  Sam  Marvin." 

Alethea's  lifted  hand  paused  upon  the  shuck  on  the 
sere  stalk.  As  she  turned  half  round  he  saw  her  face  in 
the  smoke ;  her  golden  hair  and  fresh  cheek,  and  the  saf- 
fron kerchief  tied  beneath  the  round  chin.  He  was  not 
struck  by  her  beauty ;  it  always  seemed  a  Hiring  apart 
from  her,  the  slightest  incident  of  her  personality,  so 
much  more  forceful  were  the  impressions  of  her  charac- 
ter, so  much  more  intimately  her  coercive  opinions  con- 
cerned those  with  whom  she  came  in  contact.  But  in 
her  clear  eyes  he  detected  a  surprise  which  he  hardly  un- 
derstood at  the  moment.  And  he  paused  to  look  at  her, 
wondering  if  it  were  only  simulated. 

Her  heart  throbbed  with  a  dull  and  heavy  pain.  So 
angry  were  they  because  she  would  not  promise  to  keep 
their  secret.  She  shrank  from  their  rage  when  she  should 
tell  that  she  had  voluntarily  disclosed  it. 

"  Ye  11  be  purtendin'  ez  't  war  somebody  else  ez  sent 
the  spy  ter  make  sure  o'  the  place  whar  we  kep'  our 
still.  I  know  ye  !  "  He  wagged  his  head  in  more  ac- 
tive assertion  that  her  machinations  could  not  avail 
against  his  discernment. 

"  I  never  sent  no  spy,"  faltered  Alethea. 

"  Thar  now !  What  did  I  tell  ye  !  "  he  broke  out, 
laughing  disdainfully  ;  the  woman  added  a  high,  shrill, 
unmirthful  refrain ;  even  Serena  the  pullet,  stepping 
about  in  the  smoke  on  her  long,  yellow  feet  and  in  her 
abbreviated  garments,  cackled  scornfully. 

"  Ye  may  thank  yer  blessed  stars,"  cried  the  woman 
scathingly,  —  she  could  hold  silence  no  longer,  —  "  ez  ye 
done  nuthin'  agin  we-uns.  An'  the  revenuers  never 
raided  our  still,  nor  got  nare  drap  o'  our  liquor,  nor  tuk 
nuthin'  o'  ourn.  Yer  bones  would  be  a-bleachin'  on  the 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  237 

hillside  ef  they  hed !  Jes'  afore  yer  spy  kem  them 
white-livered  men  —  Sam  thar,  an'  the  t'other  distillers 
—  war  a-talkin'  'bout  how  they  could  make  ye  hesh  up 
yer  mouth,  ez  ye  would  n't  keep  it  shet  yerse'f .  They 
'lowed  it  never  seemed  right  handy  ter  them  ter  shoot  a 
woman  same  ez  a  man,  an'  I  jes'  up-ed  an'  tole  'em  ez  ye 
desarved  no  better  'n  a  bullet  through  that  yaller  head  o' 
yourn.  an'  they  could  git  a  shot  at  ye  enny  evenin'  whenst 
ye  war  a-drivin'  up  the  cow.  An'  I  'lowed  ez  whenst  a 
woman  went  a-meddlin'  an'  informin'  like  a  man,  let 
her  take  what  a  man  hev  ter  take.  Naw,  sir !  but  they 
mus'  run  away,  'count  o'  a  meddler  like  you-uns,  an'  go 
live  somwhar  else  !  An'  I  hed  ter  leave  my  home,  an' 
the  three  graves  o'  my  dead  chill'n,  yander  on  the  rise, 
ez  lonesome  an'  ez  meagre-lookin'  ez  ef  they  war  three 
pertater  hills." 

She  burst  into  a  tumult  of  tears.  The  smoke  wafted 
down,  obscuring  her,  —  there  was  commotion  in  its  midst, 
for  the  wind  was  rising,  —  and  her  sobs  sounded  from 
out  the  invisibility  that  had  effaced  the  earth  as  if  some 
spirit  of  grief  were  abroad  in  it. 

"  Shet  up,  M'ria !  Ye  talk  like  ye  hed  no  mo'  sense  'n 
a  sheep.  The  chill'n  ain't  in  them  graves,"  Marvin  said, 
with  the  consolations  of  a  sturdy  orthodoxy. 

"  Thar  leetle  bones  is,"  said  the  spirit  of  grief  from 
the  densities  of  the  clouds. 

And  he  could  not  gainsay  this. 

She  wept  on  persistently  for  the  little  deserted  bones. 
He  could  not  feel  as  she  did,  yet  he  could  understand 
her  feeling.  His  under-jaw  dropped  a  little ;  some  stress 
of  melancholy  and  solemnity  was  on  his  face,  as  if  a  sad- 
dened retrospection  were  evoked  for  him,  too.  But  it 
was  a  recollection  which  his  instinct  was  to  throw  off, 
rather  than  to  cherish  as  a  precious  sorrow,  jealously  ex- 
acting for  it  the  extremest  tribute  of  sighs  and  tears. 

"  Lethe,"  he  said  suddenly,  with  a  cheerful  note, 
"bein*  ez  they  never  cotch  us,  did  they  pay  ye  enny- 
thing  ez  informer  ?  I  ain't  right  sure  how  the  law  stands 
on  that  p'int.  The  law  'pears  ter  me  ter  be  a  mighty 


238  ij\f  THE  CLOUDS. 

onstiddy,  contrariwise  contrivance,  an'  the  bes'  way  ter 
find  out  ennything  sartain  sure  'bout'n  it  air  ter  'speri- 
ence  it.  Did  they  pay  ye  ennything  ?  " 

"  I  never  informed  the  revenuers,"  declared  Alethea, 
once  more. 

He  turned  upon  her  a  look  of  scorn. 
"I  knowed  ye  war  a  powerful  fool,  a-talkin'  'bout 
1  what 's  right/  an'  preachin'  same  ez  the  rider,  an'  fault- 
in'  yer  elders.  But  I  never  knowed  ye  war  a  liar  an'  a 
scandalous  hypocrite.  The  Bible  say,  *  Woe  ter  ye,  hyp- 
ocrites ! '  I  wonder  ye  ain't  hearn  that  afore ;  either 
a-wrastlin'  with  yer  own  soul,  or  meddlin'  with  other 
folkses'  salvation."  It  occurred  to  him  that  he  preached 
very  well  himself,  and  he  was  minded,  in  the  sudden 
vanity  of  the  discovery,  to  reiterate,  "  Woe  unto  ye, 
hypocrite !  " 

u  What  makes  ye  'low  ez  I  gin  the  word  ter  the  reve- 
nuers ?  "  demanded  Alethea. 

""  'Kase  the  spy  kem  up  thar  with  yer  name  on  his  lips. 
1  Lethe  Sayles,'  he  sez,  —  '  Lethe  Sayles.'  " 
The  girl  stared  wide-eyed  and  amazed  at  him. 
Marvin's  wife    noted    the   expression.     "  Oh,   g'long, 
Lethe  Sayles  !  "  she  cried  impatiently ;  "ye  air  so  de- 
ceivin' !  " 

"  The  spy  !  "  faltered  Alethea.  "  Who  war  the  spy  ? 
I  never  tole  nobody  'bout  seein'  ye  at  Boke's  barn,  nor 
whenst  I  war  milkin'  the  cow,  nuther,  till  a  few  weeks 
ago.  Ye  hed  lef  hyar  fur  months  afore  then." 

The  woman,  listening,  with  an  ear  of  corn  in  her  mo- 
tionless hand,  turned  and  cast  it  upon  the  heap  with  a 
significant  gesture  of  rejection,  as  if  she  thus  discarded 
the  claims  of  what  she  had  heard.  She  sneered,  and 
laughed  derisively  and  shrill.  The  pullet,  too,  broke 
into  mocking  mirth,  and  then  both  fell  to  pulling  corn 
with  a  sort  of  flouting  energy. 

"  Oh,  shucks  !  "  exclaimed  Marvin,  with  a  feint  of 
sharing  their  incredulity.  But  he  held  his  straggling 
beard  in  one  hand,  and  looked  at  Alethea  seriously.  To 
him  her  manner  constrained  belief  in  what  she  had  said. 


\ 
IN  THE  CLOUDS.  239 

"  Why,  Lethe,"  he  broke  out,  abruptly,  "  't  war  n't  long 
arter  that  evenin'  whenst  I  seen  ye  a-milkin'  the  cow 
when  the  spy  kem.  We-uns  war  a-settin'  roun'  the  still, 

—  we  kep'  it  in  the   shed-room,  me  an'  my  partners, 

—  an'  we  war  a-talkin'  'bout  you-uns,  an'  how  ye  acted  ; 
an'    M'ria,   she    war   thar,   an'    she  went    agin   ye,   an' 
'lowed  ez  we  hed  better  make  ye  shet  yer  mouth ;  an' 
some   o'  the  boys  were  argufyin'  ez  ye   war  jes'  sayin' 
sech  ez  ye  done  ter  hear  yerse'f  talk,  an'  feel  sot  up  in 
yer  own  'pinion.     They  lowed  ye'd  be  feared  ter  tell, 
sure  enough,  but  ye  hankered  ter  be  begged  ter  shet  up. 
'T  war  a  powerful  stormy  night.     I  never  hear  a  wusser 
wind   ez   war   a-cavortin'    round   the    house.      An'   the 
lightnin'  an'  thunder  hed  been  right  up  an'  down  snip- 
tious.     A  lightnin'  ball  mus'  hev  bust  up  on  Piomingo 
Bald,  'kase  nex'  day  I  see  the  ground  tore  up  round  the 
herders'  cabin,  though  Ben   Doaks  war  n't  thar,  —  hed 
gone   down  ter  the   cove,  I  reckon.     Waal,  sir,  it  quit 
stormin'  arter  a  while,  but  everything  war  mighty  damp 
an'  wet ;    the  draps  kep'  a-fallin'  off'n  the  eaves.     We 
could  hear  the  hogs  in  the  pen  a-squashin'  about  in  the 
rnud.     An'  all  of  a  suddenty  they  tuk  ter  squealin'  an' 
gruntin',  skeered  mighty  nigh  ter  death.     An'  my  oldest 
son,  Mose,  he  'lowed  it  war  a  varmint  arter  'em  ;  an'  he 
snatched  his   gun   an'  runned  out  ter  the  hog-pen.     An' 
thar   they  war,   all  jammed  up  tergether,   gruntin'   an' 
snortin' ;  an'  Mose  say  he  war  afeard  to  shoot  'mongst 
'em,  fur  fear  o'   hittin'  some  o'  them  stiddier  the  var- 
mint.    An'  whilst  he  war  lookin'  right  keerf ul,  —  the 
moon  hed  kem  out  by  then,  —  he  seen,  stiddier  a  wolf, 
suthin'  a-bowin'  down  off'n  the  fence.     An'   the  thing 
cotch  up  a  crust  o'  bread,  or  a  rind  o'  water-million,  or 
suthin',  out  o'  the  trough  fur  the  hogs,  an'  then  sot  up  ez 
white-faced  on  the  fence,  a-munchin'  it  an'  a-lookin'  at 
him.     An'  Mose  'lowed  he  war  so  plumb  s'prised  he  los' 
his  senses.     He  'lowed  't  war  a  harnt,  —  it  looked  so  on- 
expected.     He  jes'  flung  his  rifle  on  the  groun'  an'  run. 
It  's  mighty  seldom  sech  tracks  hev  been  made  on  the 
Big  Smoky  ez  Mose  tuk.     We-uns  ain't  medjured  'em 


240  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

yit,  but  Mose  hev  got  the  name  'mongst  the  gang  o'  bein' 
able  ter  step  fourteen  feet  at  a  stride." 

He  showed  his  long,  tobacco-stained  teeth  in  the  midst 
of  his  straggling  beard,  and  as  he  talked  on  he  gnawed 
at  a  plug  of  tobacco,  as  if,  being  no  impediment  to 
thought,  it  could  be  none  to  its  expression. 

"  Mose  lept  inter  the  house,  declarin'  thar  war  a  harnt 
a-settin'  on  the  fence.  Ye  know  Jeb  Peake  ?  —  hongry 
Jeb,  they  useter  call  him."  Marvin  broke  off  suddenly, 
having  forgotten  the  significance  and  purpose  of  the  re- 
cital in  the  rare  pleasure  of  recounting.  Even  his  wife's 
face  bore  only  retrospective  absorption,  and  Serena  had 
lifted  her  head,  and  fixed  an  excited,  steadfast  eye  upon 
him.  "  Waal,  hongry  Jeb  war  a-settin'  thar  in  the 
corner,  an'  bein'  toler'ble  sleepy-headed  he  hed  drapped 
off,  his  head  agin  the  chimbley.  An'  when  Mose  kem 
a-rampagin'  in  thar,  with  his  eyes  poppin'  out,  declarin' 
thar  war  a  harnt  settin'  on  the  fence,  eatin',  — '  Eatin^ 
what  ?  '  sez  hongry  Jeb,  a-startin'  up.  Ha  !  ha !  ha  !  " 

"  Jeb  ain't  never  forgot  the  bottom  o'  the  pot  yit," 
chimed  in  the  wife. 

"  I  ain't  a-grudgin'  him  ter  eat,  though,"  stipulated 
the  moonshiner,  "  nor  the  harnt,  nuther.  I  jes'  'lowed 
ez  that  thar  white-faced  critter  a-settin'  on  the  fence, 
a-thievin'  from  the  hog,  mought  take  up  a  fancy  ter 
Mose's  rifle,  lef  onpertected  on  the  ground.  So  I  goes 
out.  Nuthin'  war  n't  settin'  on  the  fence,  'ceptin'  the 
moonlight  an'  that  thar  onregenerate  young  tur-rkey  ez 
nuthin'  could  hender  from  roostin'  on  the  rails  o'  the 
hog-pen,  stiddier  on  a  limb  o'  a  tree,  'longside  o'  the 
t'other  tur-rkeys." 

"An'  thar  a  fox  cotch  her  afore  daybreak,"  inter- 
polated Mrs.  Marvin,  supplying  biographical  deficien- 
cies. 

"  I  always  did  b'lieve  't  war  them  thar  greedy  old 
hogs,"  said  Serena. 

Marvin  went  on,  disregarding  the  interruption  :  — 

"  I  picked  up  Mose's  gun,  an'  in  I  kem.  I  barred  up 
the  door,  an'  then  I  sot  down  an'  lighted  my  pipe.  An' 


JN  THE   CLOUDS.  241 

Jeb,  he  tuk  ter  tellin'  tales  'bout  all  the  folks  ez  he  ever 
knowed  ter  be  skeered  haffen  ter  death  "  — 

"  Nare  one  of  'em  war  Jeb,"  remarked  the  observant 
Mrs.  Marvin,  seizing  the  salient  trait  of  the  romancer. 
"  In  all  Jeb's  tales  he  comes  out'n  the  big  e-end  o'  the 
hawn." 

"  An'  ez  I  sot  thar,  jes'  wallin'  my  eyes  round  the 
room,  I  seen  suthin'  that,  ef  the  t'others  lied  said  they 
seen,  I  'd  hev  tole  'em  they  war  lyin'.  'T  war  a  couple 
o'  eyes  an'  a  white  face  peekin'  through  the  holes  in 
the  chinkin'  o'  the  walls,  whar  the  daubin'  hed  fell  out. 
'T  war  right  close  ter  me  at  fust,  —  that  war  how  I  kem 
ter  see  it  so  plain.  I  'lowed  ter  jes'  stick  my  knife  r 
quick  inter  one  o'  them  eyes.  I  'lowed  't  war  a 
'Fore  I  could  move  't  war  gone  !  Then  all  of  a  suddent 
I  seen  the  face  an'  eyes  peekin'  in  close  ter  the  door. 
I  jes'  flew  at  it  that  time,  —  war  n't  goin'  ter  let  nuthin' 
hender " — 

"  I  war  'twixt  him  an'  the  door,  an'  he  jes'  run  over 
me,"  interpolated  the  pullet.  "  Knocked  me  plumb  over, 
head  fust,  inter  a  tub  o'  beer.  Hed  ter  set  in  the  sun  all 
nex'  day  fur  my  hair  ter  dry  out,  an'  I  smelt  like  a 
toper." 

Sam  Marvin  not  ungenially  permitted  his  family  thus 
to  share  in  telling  his  story.  He  resumed  with  unabated 
ardor :  — 

"  An'  I  jumped  through  the  door  so  quick  that  the 
spy  jes'  did  see  me,  an'  war  steppin'  out  ter  run  when  I 
cotch  him  by  the  collar.  I  don't  reckon  thar  ever  war  a 
better  beatin'  'n  I  gin  him.  I  hed  drapped  my  knife  a- 
runnin',  an'  I  hed  no  dependence  'ceptin'  my  fists.  His 
face  war  so  bloody  I  did  n't  know  him  a-fust,  when  I 
dragged  him  in  the  house,  with  his  head  under  my  arm. 
An'  when  I  seen  him  I  knowed  he  never  kem  of  hisself, 
but  somebody  had  sent  him.  An'  I  say,  '  What'  did  ye 
kem  hyar  fur  ? '  An'  he  say,  *  Lethe  Sayles.'  An'  I 
say,  '  Who  sent  ye  ?  '  An'  he  say,  '  Lethe  Sayles.'  " 

"  Now,  Lethe,  see  what  a  liar  ye  hev  been  fund  out 
ter  be  !  "  said  the  woman,  scornfully.  "  Lord  knows  I 


242  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

never  lowed  ye  would  kem  ter  sech.  I  knowed  ye 
whenst  ye  war  a  baby.  A  fatter  one  I  never  see.  No- 
body^  would  hev  b'lieved  ye  'd  grow  up  sour,  an'  preachi- 
fied,  an'  faultin'  yer  elders,  an'  bide  a  single  woman,  ez 
ef  nobody  would  make  ch'ice  o'  ye." 

Alethea  looked  vaguely  from  one  to  the  other.  Denial 
seemed  futile.  She  asked  mechanically,  rather  than 
from  any  definite  motive,  "  Did  ye  hear  o'  enny  reve- 
nuers  arter  that  ?  " 

"  Did  n't  wait  ter,"  said  Marvin.  "  We  hed  hearn 
enough,  knowin'  ez  ye  hed  tole,  an'  the  word  hed  got 
round  the  kentry,  so  ez  the  spy  hed  been  sent  up  ter 
make  sure  o'  the  place.  We-uns  war  too  busy  a-movin' 
the  still  an'  a-hustlin'  off.  Ef  thar  hed  been  time  enough 
fur  ennything,  I  reckon  some  o'  them  boys  would  hev 
put  a  bullet  through  that  thar  sandy  head  o'  yourn.  But 
the  raiders  never  kem  up  with  we-uns,  nor  got  our  still 
an'  liquor,  —  we-uns  war  miles  an'  miles  away  from  hyar 
the  night  arter  Tad  kem  a-spyin'." 

Alethea  stood  staring,  speechless.  "  Tad  !  "  she  gasped 
at  last.  "  Tad  !  " 

They  all  stopped  and  looked  at  her  through  the  wreath- 
ing smoke,  as  if  they  hardly  understood  her. 

"  Lethe,  ye  air  too  pretensified  ter  be  healthy !  "  Mrs. 
Marvin  exclaimed  at  last. 

"  O'  course  ye  knowed,  bein'  ez  ye  tole  him,"  said  the 
moonshiner.  He  did  not  resume  his  work,  but  stood 
gazing  at  her.  They  were  all  at  a  loss,  amazed  at  her 
perturbation. 

Her  breath  came  fast;  her  lips  were  parted.  One 
lifted  hand  clung  to  the  heavily  enswathed  ear  of  corn 
upon  the  tall,  sere  stalk  ;  the  other  clutched  the  kerchief 
about  her  throat,  as  if  she  were  suffocating.  Her  face 
was  pale  ;  her  eyes  were  distended. 

"  I  would  n't  look  so  pop-eyed  fur  nuthin',"  remarked 
the  pullet,  in  callow  pertness  ;  she  might  not  have  been 
suspected  of  laying  so  much  stress  on  appearances. 

"  I  'm  tryin'  ter  think,"  said  Alethea,  dazed,  "  ef  that 
war  afore  Tad  war  drownded  or  arterward." 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  243 

Marvin  turned,  and  leered  significantly  at  his  fam- 

iiy- 

"  Mus'  hev  been  afore  he  war  drownded,  I  reckon," 
he  said  satirically. 

11  Lethe  Sayles,"  observed  Serena  reprehensively,  "  ye 
air  teched  in  the  head." 

She  tossed  her  own  head  with  a  conviction  that,  if  not 
strictly  ornamental,  it  was  level.  Then,  like  the  sane 
fowl  that  she  was,  she  went  stepping  about  on  her  long, 
yellow  feet  with  a  demure,  grown-up  air. 

"  Oh,"  said  Alethea,  fixing  the  dates  in  her  mind,  "  it 
mus'  hev  been  arterwards  "  — 

"  Likely,"  interrupted  Sam  Marvin. 

—  "  'kase  that  very  evenin'  arter  I  seen  ye  at  the  cow- 
pen  Elviry  Crosby  kem  an'  tole  ez  how  Reuben  Lorey 
heel  bust  down  old  man  Griff's  mill,  an'  his  nevy  Tad 
war  in  it,  an'  war  drownded  in  the  ruver." 

"  Laws-a-me !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Marvin,  clutching  her 
sun-bonnet  with  both  hands,  and  thrusting  it  backward 
from  her  head,  as  if  it  intercepted  the  news. 

"  Waal,  sir  !  "  cried  the  moonshiner,  amazed. 

"  Oh,"  cried  Alethea,  clasping  both  her  hands,  "  ef  I 
bed  called  ye  back  that  evenin',  an'  promised  not  ter  tell, 
like  I  war  minded  ter  do  "  — 

"  Ye  'lowed  't  war  n't  right,"  suggested  the  moon- 
shiner. 

—  "  ye  would  hev  knowed  ez  Tad  war  n't  no  spy,  but 
war  jes'  vagabondin'  round  the  kentry,  a  runaway,  house- 
less an'  hongry  ;  an'  ye  would  hev  tuk  him  back  ter  old 
man  Griff,  an'  Reuben  would  n't  hev  been  tried  fur  kill- 
in'  him !  " 

"  Shucks,  Mink  war  n't  tried  fur  sech  sure  enough  ?  " 
said  Marvin,  uneasily.  His  face  had  changed.  His  wife 
was  turning  the  corner  of  her  apron  nervously  between 
her  fingers,  and  looking  at  him  in  evident  trepidation. 

"  He  hev  been  in  jail  fur  months  an'  months,"  said 
Alethea.  "  An'  when  he  war  tried,  I  told  on  the  witness 
stand  'bout  glimpsin'  Tad  one  night  whenst  I  kem  from 
camp,  —  mus'  hev  been  the  same  night  whenst  he  went 


244  TN   THE   CLOUDS. 

up  the  mounting  ter  yer  house,  'kase  thar  war  a  awful 
storm.  An'  when  I  seen  him  suddiiit  I  screamed,  bein' 
s'prised ;  an'  I  reckon  that  war  the  reason  he  said  '  Lethe 
Sayles.'  An'  at  the  trial  they  'lowed  I  hed  seen  nuthin' 
but  Tad's  harnt,  an'  the  jury  disagreed." 

uAn' — an'  —  an' air  Mink  in  jail  yit  ?  "  demanded 
the  moonshiner,  his  jaw  falling  in  dismay. 

"The  rescuers  tuk  him  out,"  said  Alethea. 

"  Waal,  sir,"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  long  breath.  "  Ye 
see,"  —  he  seemed  to  feel  that  he  must  account  for  his 
excitement  and  interest,  —  "  bein'  hid  out,  I  hain't  hearn 
no  news,  sca'cely,  sence  we-uns  lef." 

"  Whar  be  Tad  now  ?  "  Alethea  asked  suddenly,  real- 
izing that  here  was  the  man  who  had  seen  him  last. 

He  glanced  quickly  at  her,  then  in  perplexed  dubita- 
tion  at  his  wife.  In  common  with  many  women,  she  was 
willing  enough  to  steer  when  it  was  all  plain  sailing,  but 
among  the  breakers  she  left  him  with  an  undivided  re- 
sponsibility. She  fell  to  pulling  corn  with  an  air  of  com- 
plete absorption  in  her  work. 

He  made  a  clumsy  effort  at  diversion.  "  By  Gosh," 
he  declared,  waving  his  hand  about  his  head,  "  ef  this 
hyar  smoke  don't  clar  away,  we-uns  '11  all  be  sifflicated 
in  it." 

But  the  smoke  was  not  now  so  dense.  High  up,  its 
sober,  dun-colored  folds  were  suffused  with  a  lurid  flush 
admitted  from  the  wintry  sunset.  The  black,  dead  trees 
within  the  inclosure  stood  out  distinctly  athwart  the  blank 
neutrality  of  the  gray,  nebulous  background.  The  little 
house  on  the  rise  was  dimly  suggested  beyond  the  corn- 
field, across  which  skulked  protean  shapes  of  smoke,  — 
monstrous  forms,  full  of  motion  and  strange  consistency 
and  slowly  realized  symmetry,  as  if  some  gigantic  prehis- 
toric beasts  were  trembling  upon  the  verge  of  materiali- 
zation and  visibility.  The  wind  gave  them  chase.  It 
had  lifted  its  voice  in  the  silences.  Like  a  clarion  it 
rang  down  the  narrow  ravine  below.  But  Sam  Marvin, 
expanding  his  lungs  to  the  freshened  air,  declared  that 
he  felt  "  plumb  sifflicated." 


7^V  THE   CLOUDS.  245 

"  Whar  be  Tad  now  ?  "  persisted  Alethea. 

He  spat  meditatively  upon  the  ground.  "  Waal, 
Lethe,"  he  said  at  last,  "  that 's  more  'n  I  know.  I 
dunno  whar  Tad  be  now." 

She  detected  consciousness  in  the  manner  of  the  wo- 
man and  the  girl.  She  broke  out  in  a  tumult  of  fear  :  — 

u  Ye  did  n't  harm  Tad,  did  ye  ?  "  with  wild,  terrified 
eyes  fixed  upon  him.  "  Ye  did  n't  kill  Tad  fur  a  spy  ? 
—  'kase  he  war  n't." 

"  Shet  up,  ye  blatant  fool !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Marvin, 
"  layin'  sech  ez  that  at  we-uns's  door." 

"An'  shet  up  yerse'f,  M'ria.  Least  said,  soonest 
mended,"  Marvin  interposed.  "  Look-a-hyar,  Lethe 
Sayles,  ye  hev  done  harm  enough ;  it  may  be  'kase  it  war 
right.  Take  sech  satisfaction  ez  ye  kin  in  yer  notion. 
It  never  turned  out  right,  —  turned  out  mighty  wrong. 
I  ain't  goin'  ter  answer  ye  nare  nuther  word.  I  hev  got 
a  question  ter  ax  you-uns  right  now.  Who  war  it  ye  tole 
'bout  findin'  out  't  war  me  a-moonshinin'  ?  " 

She  detailed  tremulously  the  scene  in  the  court-room, 
and  the  impression  it  produced  was  altogether  at  vari- 
ance with  her  expectations.  Perhaps,  however,  it  was 
only  natural  that  Sam  Marvin  should  feel  less  interest  in 
the  belated  disclosure,  which  he  had  thought  was  made 
months  previous,  than  in* the  circumstances  of  the  trial, 
Peter  Rood's  death,  the  imprisonment  of  the  jury,  and 
the  riot  of  the  rescuing  mob.  As  to  his  wife,  she  was 
chiefly  shocked  by  the  publicity  attaching  to  testimony 
in  open  court. 

"  An'  ye  jes'  stood  up  thar,  Lethe  Sayles,  ez  bold- 
faced ez  a  biscuit-block,  an'  lifted  up  yer  outdacious 
voice  afore  all  them  men  ?  Waal,  sir !  Waal !  I  dunno 
what  the  wimmen  air  a-comin'  ter !  " 

"  I  war  obligated  ter  tell  sech  ez  I  knowed,"  Alethea 
contended  against  this  assumption  of  superior  delicacy. 
"  I  never  felt  no  more  bold-faced  than  in  tellin'  'speri- 
unce  'fore  the  brethren  at  camp." 

"  Oh,  child  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Marvin.  "  It 's  the  spirit  o' 
grace  movin'  at  camp,  but  at  court  it 's  the  nimbleness  o' 
the  devil." 


246  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

Alethea  argued  no  further,  for  conversation  was  im- 
peded by  the  succeeding  operations  of  gathering  the 
crop.  Marvin  was  leading  the  team  of  the  great  wagon 
from  one  to  another  of  the  heaps  of  corn.  The  huge 
creaking  wheels  crushed  the  ranks  of  stalks  that  fell  in 
confusion  on  either  side  ;  the  white  canvas  cover  liad 
been  removed  from  the  hoops,  in  order  to  facilitate  the 
throwing  of  the  corn  into  the  wagon.  Through  the 
wreaths  of  smoke  appeared  the  long  ears  of  a  pair  of 
mules.  Sam  Marvin  had  apparently  found  his  new  home 
in  a  thirstier  locality  than  his  old,  for  he  was,,  evidently 
thriving.  The  pair  of  mules  might  have  been  considered 
a  sorry  team  in  point  of  appearance  :  their,  sides  were 
rubbed  bare  with  the  friction  of  the  trace-chains ;  they 
were  both  unkempt,  and  one  was  very  tall  and  the  other 
small,  but  they  were  stalwart  and  sure-footed  and  fleet, 
and  a  wonderful  acquisition  in  lieu  of  the  yoke  of  slow 
oxen  she  remembered.  The  continuous  thud,  as  the  ears 
of  corn  were  thrown  into  the  wagon,  enabled  Marvin  to 
affect  not  to  hear  Alethea's  reiteration  as  to  Tad's  fate. 

"  I  wisht  ye  'd  tell  me  suthin'  'bout'n  Tad,"  she  said 
piteously.  "  I  wisht  I  knew  ye  hed  n't  hurt  him,  nor  — 
nor  "  — 

She  paused  in  the  work,  looking  drearily  about  her. 
The  wind  tossed  her  garments ;  she  was  fain  at  times  to 
catch  her  bonnet  by  the  curtain,  to  hold  it.  The  smoke 
had  taken  flight ;  dragons,  winged  horses,  griffins,  for- 
gotten myths,  all  scurrying  away  before  the  strong  blast. 
And  still  they  came  and  went,  and  rose  once  more,  for 
the  wind  that  lifted  the  smoke  fanned  the  fire.  The 
flames  were  in  sight  along  the  base  of  Big  Injun  Mount- 
ing, writhing  now  like  fiery  serpents,  and  now  rising  like 
some  strange  growth  in  quivering  blades ;  waving  and 
bowing,  appearing  and  disappearing,  and  always  extend- 
ing further  and  further.  They  seemed  so  alive,  so  en- 
dowed with  the  spirit  of  destruction,  so  wantonly  alert, 
so  merciless  to  the  fettered  mountain  that  tossed  its  for- 
ests in  wild  commotion,  with  many  a  gesture  of  abject 
despair,  and  spite  of  ah1  could  not  flee.  Their  strong, 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  247 

tawny  color  contrasted  with  the  dull  garnet  of  the  bare 
boughs  and  the  deep,  sombre  green  of  the  solemn  pines. 
The  smoke  carried  from  the  fire  a  lurid  reflection,  fad- 
ing presently  in  the  progress  across  the  landscape  of 
the  long,  dun-colored  flights.  The  wintry  sunset  was  at 
hand.  The  sky  was  red  and  amber ;  the  plains  of  the 
far  west  lay  vaguely  purple  beneath.  On  Walden's 
Ridge,  rising  against  the  horizon,  rested  the  sun,  from 
which  somehow  the  dazzling  fire  seemed  withdrawn, 
leaving  a  sphere  of  vivid  scarlet,  indescribably  pure  and 
intense,  upon  which  the  eye  could  nevertheless  gaze  un- 
daunted. 

Pensive  intimations  there  were  in  its  reduced  splen- 
dors ;  in  the  deep  purple  of  Chilhowee,  in  the  brown  tints 
of  the  nearer  ranges.  Something  was  gone  from  the 
earth,  —  a  day,  —  and  the  earth  was  sad,  though  it  had 
known  so  many.  And  the  night  impended  and  the  un- 
imagined  morrow.  And  thus  the  averted  Future  turns 
by  slow  degrees  the  face  that  all  flesh  dreads  to  see. 
The  voice  of  lowing  cattle  came  up  from  the  cove.  The 
fires  in  the  solitudes  burned  apace. 

"  I  hev  axed  ye  time  an'  agin,  Sam  Marvin,  whar  Tad 
be.  Ef  ye  don't  tell,  I  '11  be  bound  ter  b'lieve  ye  moon- 
shiners hev  done  suthin'  awful  ter  him." 

They  were  about  to  depart  on  their  journey.  Already 
Serena  was  on  her  uneasy  bed  of  corn  in  the  ear.  But 
the  pullet's  life  had  been  made  up  chiefly  of  rough 
jouncing,  and  never  having  heard  of  a  wagon  with 
springs,  she  was  in  a  measure  incapable  of  appreciating 
her  deprivation.  She  had  wrapped  a  quilt  of  many  colors 
about  her  shoulders,  for  the  evening  air  was  chill,  and 
she  looked  out  of  the  opening  in  the  back  of  the  canvas- 
covered  wagon  in  grotesque  variegation.  Mrs.  Marvin 
was  climbing  upon  the  wheel  to  her  seat  on  the  board  in 
front.  The  moonshiner  stood  by  the  head  of  one  of  the 
mules,  busy  arranging  the  simple  tackling.  He  looked 
with  a  sneer  at  Alethea  over  the  beast's  neck. 

kt  An'  I  hev  tole  ye,  Lethe  Sayles,  ez  I  dunno  whar 
Tad  be  now.  I  'm  a  mighty  smart  man,  sure  enough, 


248  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

but 't  would  take  a  smarter  one  'n  me  ter  say  whar  Tad 
be  now,  an'  what  he  be  a-doin'." 

He  looked  at  his  wife  with  a  grin.  She  laughed  aloud 
in  tuneless  scorn.  The  girl,  gazing  out  of  the  back  of 
the  wagon  as  it  jolted  off,  echoed  the  derision  in  a  shrill 
key.  And  as  the  clumsy  vehicle  went  creaking  down 
the  precipitous  slope,  beyond  which  could  be  seen  only 
the  flaming  base  of  the  opposite  mountain,  all  luridly 
aflare  in  the  windy  dusk,  they  seemed  to  Alethea  as  if 
they  were  descending  into  Tophet  itself. 


XVIII. 

FOR  a  long  time  that  night  Alethea  sat  on  the  cabin 
porch  in  Wild-Cat  Hollow,  absently  watching  the  limited 
landscape  seen  through  the  narrow  gap  of  the  minor 
ridges  superimposed  upon  the  great  mountain.  The  sky 
was  dark  but  for  the  light  that  came  from  the  earth. 
The  flames  were  out  of  sight  behind  the  intervening 
ranges.  Weird  fluctuating  gleams,  however,  trembled 
over  the  cove  below,  and  summoned  from  the  darkness 
that  stately  file  of  peaks  stretching  away  along  the  sole 
vista  vouchsafed  to  the  Hollow.  Sometimes  the  illumina- 
tion was  a  dull  red  suffusion,  merging  in  the  distance 
into  melancholy  gradations  of  tawny  yellow  and  indeter- 
minate brown,  and  so  to  densest  gloom.  Again  it  was 
golden,  vivid,  fibrous,  divergent,  like  the  segment  of  a 
halo  about  some  miraculous  presence,  whose  gracious 
splendor  was  only  thus  suggested  to  the  debarred  in 
Wild-Cat  Hollow.  The  legions  of  the  smoke  were 
loosed :  down  in  the  cove,  always  passing  in  endless 
ranks  what  way  the  wind  might  will ;  along  the  moun- 
tain side,  marshaled  in  fantasies  reflecting  from  the  fires 
subtle  intimations  of  color,  —  of  blue  and  red  and  purple  ; 
deploying  upward,  interposing  between  the  constellations, 
that  seemed  themselves  upon  the  march.  There  were 
clouds  in  the  sky  ;  the  night  was  chill.  Alethea  gathered 
her  shawl  over  her  head.  Now  and  then  Tige,  who  sat 
beside  her,  wheezed  and  glanced  over  his  shoulder  at  the 
door  ajar,  as  if  to  urge  her  to  go  in.  Sometimes  he  ran 
thither  himself,  looking  backward  to  see  if  she  would 
follow  him.  Then,  as  she  continued  motionless,  he  would 
come  and  sit  beside  her,  with  a  plaintive  whine  of  resig- 
nation. Tige  was  pensive  and  humble  to-night,  and  was 


250  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

making  an  edifying  show  of  repentance.  On  the  home- 
ward walk  he  had  been  disposed  to  follow  the  example 
of  the  moonshiner's  dogs  and  harass  the  coon,  thereby 
becoming  acquainted  with  the  teeth  of  the  smiling  creat- 
ure, and  incurring  Alethea's  rebukes  and  displeasure. 

It  was  a  cheerful  scene  within,  glimpsed  through  the 
half-open  door,  contrasting  with  the  wild,  dark  world 
without,  and  its  strange  glares  and  fluctuating  glooms 
and  far-off  stars  and  vast  admeasurements  of  loneliness. 
The  old  woman  knitted  and  nodded  in  her  rocking-chair ; 
Jessup  and  Mr.  Sayles  smoked  their  pipes,  and  ever  and 
anon  the  old  man  began  anew  to  detail  —  the  pipestem 
between  his  teeth  —  the  legends  that  his  grandfather  had 
learned  from  the  Indians  of  the  hidden  silver  mines  in 
these  mountains,  found  long  ago,  and  visited  stealthily, 
the  secret  of  the  locality  dying  with  its  discoverer,  who 
thus  carried  out  of  the  world  more  than  he  brought  with 
him.  Their  eyes  gloated  on  the  fire  as  they  talked,  see- 
ing more  than  the  leaping  yellow  flames  or  the  white 
heats  of  the  coals  below.  It  might  seem  as  if  the  craving 
for  precious  metal  is  a  natural  appetite,  since  these  men 
that  knew  naught  of  the  world,  of  the  influence  of 
wealth,  of  its  powers,  of  its  infinite  divergences,  should 
be  a-hungered  for  it  in  their  primitive  fastnesses,  and 
dream  of  it  by  night. 

"  On  the  top  of  the  Big  Smoky  Mountings,  on  a  spot 
whar  ye  kin  see  the  Tennessee  River  in  three  places  at 
once,"  said  the  old  man,  repeating  the  formula  of  the 
tradition. 

Jessup  puffed  his  pipe  a  moment  in  silence,  watching 
the  wreathing  smoke.  "  I  know  twenty  sech  spots,"  he 
said  presently. 

The  old  man  sighed  and  shifted  his  position.  "  Me 
too,"  he  admitted.  "  But  thar  it  be,"  he  observed,  "  fur 
the  man  ez  air  a-comin'." 

They  fell  silent,  perhaps  both  projecting  a  mental  ideal 
of  the  man  of  the  future,  and  the  subservient  circum- 
stance that  should  lead  him  to  stand  one  day  on  these 
stupendous  heights,  with  sunshine  and  clouds  about  him 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  251 

and  the  world  at  his  feet,  and  to  look  upon  the  mystic 
curves  of  the  river,  trebly  visible,  strike  his  heel  upon 
the  ground,  and  triumphantly  proclaim,  "It  is  here ! ' 

The  dogs  lay  about  the  hearth ;  one,  a  hound,  in  the 
shadow,  with  his  muzzle  stretched  flat  on  the  floor  be- 
tween his  fore-paws,  had  saurian  suggestions,  —  he  was 
like  an  alligator.  Leonidas  and  Lucinda  had  gone  to  bed, 
but  the  baby  was  still  up  and  afoot.  The  fiat  of  nursery 
ethics  that  gentry  of  his  age  should  be  early  asleep  had 
been  complied  with  only  so  far  as  getting  him  into  his 
night-gown,  which  encased  his  increasing  plumpness  like 
a  cylinder.  He  wore  a  queer  night-cap,  that  made  him 
look  incongruously  ancient  and  feminine.  He  plodded 
about  the  puncheon  floor,  in  the  joy  of  his  newly  acquired 
powers  of  locomotion,  with  reckless  enthusiasm.  His 
shadow  accompanied  him,  magnified,  elongated,  —  his 
similitude  as  he  might  be  in  years  to  come ;  he  seemed 
in  some  sort  attended  by  the  presentiment  of  his  future. 
The  energy,  however,  with  which  he  had  started  on  his 
long  journey  through  life  would  presently  be  abated.  In 
good  sooth,  he  would  be  glad  to  sit  down  often  and  be 
still,  and  would  find  solace  in  perching  on  fences  and 
whittling,  and  would  know  that  hustling  through  this 
world  is  not  what  one  might  hope.  He  had  fallen  under 
the  delusion  that  he  could  talk  as  well  as  walk,  and  was 
inarticulately  loquacious. 

Alethea's  errand  outside  was  to  gather  chips  from  the 
wood-pile  hard  by,  to  kindle  the  morning's  fires.  It  had 
been  long  since  rain  had  fallen,  but  the  routine  of  spread- 
ing them  upon  the  hearth,  to  dry  during  the  night,  was 
as  diligently  observed  as  if  the  reason  that  gave  rise  to 
the  habit  now  existed.  The  splint  baskets  filled  and 
redolent  of  the  hickory  bark,  stood  at  her  feet,  yet  she 
did  not  move. 

She  was  solitary  in  her  isolated  life,  with  her  exalted 
moral  ideal  that  could  compromise  with  nothing  less  than 
the  right.  She  had  known  no  human  being  dominated 
by  a  supreme  idea.  The  'reformers,  the  martyrs,  all  who 
have  looked  upward,  sacrificed  in  vain  for  her  —  not 


252  IX  THE  CLOUDS. 

even  as  a  tradition,  an  exemplar  might  they  uphold  when 
she  failed.  Religion  was  vague,  distorted,  uncompre- 
hended,  in  the  primitive  expoundings  to  which  she  was 
accustomed.  Her  inherent  conscience  prevailed  within 
her  like  some  fine,  ecstatic  frenzy.  It  was  of  an  essence 
so  indomitably  militant  that  in  her  ignorant  musings  it 
seemed  that  it  must  be  this  which  marshals  the  human 
forces,  and  fights  the  battle  of  life,  and  is  unconquered 
in  death,  and  which  the  stumbling  human  tongue  calls 
the  soul.  And  yet  so  strange  it  was,  she  thought,  that 
she  could  not  always  recognize  the  right,  —  that  she 
must  sedulously  weigh  and  canvass  what  she  had  done 
and  what  she  might  have  done,  and  what  had  resulted. 

She  dwelt  long  on  the  moonshiner's  story.  •  She  was 
heart-sore  for  the  hungry  idiot,  filching  from  the  hogs,  — 
and  what  forlorn  fate  had  he  found  at  last :  She  drew 
her  shawl  closer  about  her  head,  and  shivered  more 
with  her  fears  than  with  the  wind.  She  was  very  tired ; 
not  in  body,  for  she  was  strong  and  well,  but  in  mind 
and  heart  and  life.  Somehow,  she  felt  as  if  she  were 
near  the  end,  —  surely  there  was  not  enough  vitality  of 
hope  to  sustain  her  further,  —  the  frequent  illusion  of 
sturdy  youth,  with  the  long  stretches  of  weary  years 
ahead.  There  was  even  a  certain  relaxation  of  Mink's 
tyrannous  hold  upon  her  thoughts.  It  was  not  that  she 
cared  for  him  less,  but  she  had  pondered  so  long  upon 
him  that  her  imagination  was  numb ;  she  had  beg- 
gared her  invention.  She  could  no  more  project  scenes 
where  he  walked  with  all  those  gentler  attributes  with 
which  her  affection,  despite  the  persistent  contradictions 
of  her  subtler  discernment,  had  invested  him.  She  could 
no  longer  harass  herself  with  doubts  of  his  state  of  mind, 
with  devising  troublous  reasons  why  he  had  avoided  her, 
with  fears  of  harm  and  grief  menacing  him.  She  had 
revolted  at  last  from  the  thrall  of  these  arid  unrealities. 
She  felt,  in  a  sort  of  grief  for  herself,  that  they  were  but 
poor  delusions  that  occupied  her.  He  must  come,  and 
come  soon,  her  heart  insistently  said.  And  yet  so  tired 
was  her  heart  that  she  felt  in  a  sort  of  dismay  that  were 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  253 

he  here  to-night  there  would  be  no  wild  thrill  of  ecstasy 
in  her  pulses,  no  trembling  joys.  All  that  she  had  suf- 
fered—  despair,  and  frantic  hope  that  was  hardly  less 
poignant,  and  keen  anxieties,  and  a  stress  of  care  —  had 
made  apathy,  quiet,  rest,  nullity,  the  grave,  seem  dearer 
than  aught  the  earth  could  promise. 

"  He  oughter  hev  kem  afore,"  she  said  to  herself,  in 
weary  deprecation. 

And  then  she  thought  that  perhaps  now,  since  he  was 
at  liberty  again,  he  was  happy  with  Elvira,  and  she  ex- 
perienced another  pang  to  know  that  she  was  not  jealous. 

The  clouds  had  obscured  the  few  stars.  The  wind 
was  flagging;  the  smoke  grew  denser  ;  the  forest  flames 
emitted  only  a  dull  red  glow ;  the  file  of  peaks  that  they 
had  conjured  from  the  blackness  of  night  was  lost  again 
in  the  deepening  gloom. 

She  was  roused  suddenly  to  the  fact  that  it  was  in- 
tensely quiet  in-doors.  She  could  even  hear  the  sound 
of  the  fire  in  the  deep  chimney-place ;  it  was  "  treadin' 
snow,"  the  noise  being  very  similar  to  the  crunch  of  a 
footfall  on  a  frozen  crust.  She  rose,  looking  upward  and 
holding  her  hand  to  the  skies  ;  the  glow  from  within  fell 
upon  her  fair  face,  half  hooded  in  the  shawl,  and  upon 
her  pensive  eyes.  Flakes  were  falling  ;  now,  no  more ; 
and  again  she  felt  the  faint  touch  in  her  palm. 

Her  first  thought  was  of  Mrs.  Jessup,  and  the  impedi- 
ment that  a  snow-storm  might  prove  to  her  return  ;  and 
thus  she  was  reminded  that  the  pedestrian  within  was 
still,  for  she  no  longer  heard  the  thud  of  his  bare  feet 
on  the  floor.  He  had  fallen  asleep  in  a  corner  of  the 
hearth,  with  a  gourd  in  one  hand,  and  in  the  other  a 
doll,  made,  after  the  rural  fashion,  of  a  forked  twig  ar- 
rayed in  a  bit  of  homespun.  Tige  watched  him  as  he  was 
borne  off  to  his  cradle  with  an  envy  that  was  positively 
human. 

It  was  for  the  baby's  sake  that  Mrs.  Jessup  returned 
the  next  day,  despite  the  deep  snow  that  covered  the 
ground.  She  had  had  a  dream  about  him,  she  declared, 
—  a  dreadful  dream,  which  she  could  not  remember.  It 


254  /AT  THE  CLOUDS. 

had  roused  all  the  maternal  sentiment  of  which  she  was 
capable.  She  had  endured  some  serious  hardship  in 
coming  to  assure  herself  of  his  well-being,  for  she  was 
obliged  to  walk  much  of  the  way  up  the  mountain,  —  the 
snow  and  ice  making  the  road  almost  impracticable,  and 
rendering  it  essential  that  there  should  be  as  little  weight 
as  possible  in  the  wagon ;  to  a  woman  of  her  sedentary 
habit  this  was  an  undertaking  of  magnitude.  After  her 
wild-eyed  inquiry,  "  Air  Ebenezer  well  ez  common  ?  " 
she  seemed  to  hold  him  responsible  for  the  deceit  of  her 
dream,  as  if  he  were  in  conspiracy  with  her  sleeping 
thoughts,  and  to  be  disappointed  that  the  trouble  which 
she  had  given  herself  was  altogether  unnecessary. 

"  Ye  fat  gopher  !  "  she  remarked,  contemptuously,  ey- 
ing his  puffy  red  cheeks.  "  Don't  lean  on  me.  I  'm  fit 
ter  drap.  Lean  on  yer  own  dinner.  I  '11  be  bound 
Lethe  stuffed  ye  ez  full  ez  a  sassidge." 

She  addressed  herself  to  bewailing  that  she  had  cur- 
tailed her  visit,  having  enjoyed  it  beyond  the  limits 
which  the  lugubrious  occasion  of  the  funeral  might  seem 
to  warrant. 

"  Mis'  Purvine  war  mighty  perlite  an'  sa-aft  spoken. 
I  never  see  a  house  so  fixed  up  ez  hern  air,  —  though  I 
don't  b'lieve  that  woman  hev  more  'n  two  or  three  hogs 
ter  slarter  fur  meat  this  year,'ef  that.  I  slep'  in  the 
bedroom  ;  't  war  mighty  nice,  though  colder  'n  't  war  in 
the  reg'lar  house,  through  hevin'  no  fire.  I  reckon 
that 's  what  sot  me  off  ter  dreamin'  a  pack  o'  lies  'bout 
that  thar  great  hearty  catamount,  fairly  bustin'  with  fat- 
ness. I  wisht  I  hed  bided  in  the  cove !  Mis'  Purvine 
begged  me  ter  bide,  We-uns  went  ter  the  fun'el  ter- 
gether,  an'  the  buryin',  an'  we  went  round  an'  seen  my 
old  neighbors,  an'  traded  ter  the  sto'.  An'  I  spun  some 
fur  Mis'  Purvine." 

"  Mighty  little,  I  '11  bet,"  declared  her  husband  inop- 
portunely, "  ef  what  ye  do  hyar  be  enny  sign." 

Whereupon  Mrs.  Jessup  retorted  that  she  wished  she 
had  made  an  excuse  of  the  snow  to  remain  with  Mrs. 
Purvine  until  the  thaw,  and  retaliated  amply  by  refusing 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  255 

to  tell  what  hymns  were  sung  at  the  funeral,  and  to 
recite  any  portion  of  the  sermon. 

This  resolution  punished  the  unoffending  members  of 
the  family  as  severely  as  Jessup  himself ;  but  it  is  a 
common  result  that  the  innocent  many  must  suffer  for 
the  guilty  unit,  —  justice  generally  dealing  in  the  gross. 
The  old  man's  lower  jaw  fell,  dismayed  at  the  depriva- 
tion. He  had  relinquished  sorting  his  "lumber,"  and 
had  roused  himself  to  listen  and  note.  The  details  would 
long  serve  him  for  meditation,  and  would  gradually  com- 
bine in  his  recollection  in  dull  mental  pictures  to  dwell 
on  hereafter,  and  to  solace  much  lonely  vacant  time. 
Mrs.  Sayles  was  irritated.  Alethea  had  looked  to  hear 
something  from  Mink,  and  Jessup  was  unexpectedly 
balked: 

Nothing  could  be  more  complete  than  Mrs.  Jessup's 
triumph,  as  she  held  her  tongue,  —  having  her  reason. 
Her  blue  eyes  were  bright  with  a  surface  gleam,  as  it 
were ;  there  was  a  good  deal  of  fresh  color  in  her  face. 
She  was  neater  than  usual,  having-  been  "  smartened  up 
ter  meet  the  folks  in  the  cove."  Her  snuff-brush,  how- 
ever, was  very  much  at  home  in  the  corner  of  an  exceed- 
ingly pretty  mouth.  As  they  all  sat  before  the  fire,  she 
took  off  the  socks  which  Aunt  Dely  had  lent  her,  and 
which  she  had  worn  up  the  mountain  over  her  shoes,  be- 
cause of  the  snow  ;  and  she  could  not  altogether  refrain 
from  remark. 

"  Ef  these  hyar  socks  hed  n't  been  loant  ter  me,"  she 
said,  holding  one  of  them  aloft,  "  I  could  n't  holp  no- 
ticin'  how  Mis'  Purvine  turned  them  heels,  knittin'  'em. 
I  do  declar',  ef  these  hyar  socks  fits  Jerry  Price,  he  hev 
got  a  foot  shaped  like  Buck's,  an'  no  mistake." 

It  jumped  with  her  idle  humor  to  keep  them  all  wait- 
ing, uncertain  whether  or  not  she  would  relent  and  dis- 
close the  meagre  gossip  they  pined  to  hear.  Nothing 
was  developed  till  Jacob  Jessup,  retaliating  in  turn, 
flatly  refused  to  go  and  feed  Buck,  still  harnessed  in  the 
wagon. 

Alethea  rose  indignantly. 


256  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

"  I  don't  lay  off  ter  do  yer  work  ginerally,  but  I  ain't 
goin'  ter  let  the  steer  go  hongry,"  she  said,  "'kase  ye  air 
idle  an'  onfeelin'." 

"  Don't  ye  let  him  go  hongry,  then,"  said  Jessup,  pro- 
vokingly. 

It  had  ceased  to  snow.  When  Alethea  opened  the 
door  many  of  the  traits  of  Wild-Cat  Hollow  were  so 
changed  amid  the  deep  drifts  that  one  who  had  seen  it 
only  in  its  summer  garb  might  hardly  recognize  it. 
Austere  and  bleak  as  it  was,  it  had  yet  a  symmetry  that 
the  foliage  and  bloom,  and  even  the  stubble  and  fallen 
leaves  of  autumn,  served  only  to  conceal.  The  splendid 
bare  slope  down  the  mountain,  the  precipitous  ascent  on 
either  side  of  the  deep  ravine,  showed  how  much  the  idea 
of  majesty  may  be  conveyed  in  mere  lines,  in  a  gigan- 
tic arc.  The  boles  of  the  trees  were  deeply  imbedded 
in  drifts.  On  the  mountain  above,  the  pines  and  the 
firs  supported  great  masses  of  snow  lodged  amongst  the 
needles.  Sometimes  a  sharp  crack  told  that  a  branch 
had  broken,  over-burdened.  The  silence  was  intense ; 
the  poultry  had  hardly  ventured  off  their  roosts  to-day ; 
the  gourds  that  hung  upon  a  pole  as  a  martin-house  were 
whitened,  and  glittered  pendulous.  Once,  as  Alethea 
stood  motionless,  a  little  black-feathered  head  was  thrust 
out  and  quickly  withdrawn.  Down  in  the  cove  the  snow 
lay  deep,  and  the  forests  seemed  all  less  dense,  lined 
about  as  they  were  with  white,  which  served  in  some 
sort  as  an  effacement.  Through  the  narrow  gap  of  the 
ridges  was  revealed  the  long  mountain  vista,  with  the 
snowy  peaks  against  the  gray  sky.  Very  distinct  it  all 
.-was,  sharply  drawn,  notwithstanding  that  there  lacked 
but  an  hour,  perhaps,  of  the  early  nightfall.  For  a  mo- 
ment she  had  forgotten  her  errand  ;  the  next  she  turned 
back  in  surprise.  "  Whar  's  Buck  an'  the  wagin?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Mrs.  Jessup,  still  serenely  casual,  "  he  's 
a-kemin'  up  the  mounting  along  o'  Ben  Doaks.  I  met 
Ben,  an'  I  'lowed  ez  I  did  n't  know  how  I  'd  make  out 
ter  drive  sech  a  obstinate  old  steer  up  the  mounting  in 
all  this  snow.  Buck  hev  fairly  tuk  ter  argufyin'  'bout 


7AT  THE   CLOUDS.  257 

the  road  ter  go,  till  ye  dunno  whether  ye  air  drivin'  the 
steer  or  the  steer  air  drivin'  you-uns.  I  mos'  pulled  off 
his  hawns  sence  I  been  gone.  So  Ben,  he  'lowed  he  'd 
like  ter  kem  an'  spen'  a  few  days  along  o'  we-uns,  enny- 
how." 

"  Why  n't  ye  tell  that  afore  ?  "  demanded  her  mother- 
in-law  angrily.  "  Ye  want  him  ter  'low  ez  we  air 
a-grudgin'  him  victuals.  Lethe,  put  in  some  mo'  o'  them 
sweet  'taters  in  the  ashes  ter  roast,  an'  ye  hed  better  set 
about  supper  right  now." 

For  Mrs.  Sayles  had  been  accounted  in  her  best  days 
a  good  housekeeper,  for  the  mountains,  and  she  cher- 
ished the  memory  of  so  fair  a  record.  Perhaps  her  rep- 
utation owed  something  to  the  fact  that  she  entertained 
a  unique  theory  of  hospitality,  and  made  particularly 
elaborate  preparations  when  the  guests  were  men.  "  Wim- 
men  don't  keer  special  'bout  eatin'.  Show  'em  all  the 
quilts  ye  have  pieced,  an'  yer  spun  truck,  an'  yer  gyar- 
din,  an'  they  '11  hev^  so  much  ter  study  'bout  an'  be  jeal- 
ous 'bout  ez  they  won't  want  nuthin'  much  ter  eat." 

Now  she  proceeded  to  "  put  the  big  pot  into  the  little 
pot,"  to  use  a  rural  expression,  singularly  descriptive  of 
the  ambitious  impossibilities  achieved.  She  did  it  chiefly 
by  proxy,  directing  from  her  seat  in  the  chimney  corner 
Alethea's  movements,  but  wearing  the  absorbed,  anxious 
countenance  of  strategy  and  resource.  The  glory  of  the 
victory  is  due  rather  to  the  head  that  devised  than  to  the 
hands  that  executed ;  as  in  greater  battles  the  pluck  of 
the  soldiery  is  held  subordinate  to  the  science  of  the 
commander. 

It  was  no  mean  result  that  smoked  upon  the  table 
when  the  sound  of  Buck's  slow  hoofs  was  heard  on  the 
snow  without,  and  a  warm  welcome  was  in  readiness  be- 
sides. A  cheerful  transition  it  was  from  the  bleak  soli- 
tudes :  the  fire  flared  up  the  chimney  ;  the  peppers  and 
the  peltry  hanging  from  the  rafters  might  sway  in 
draughts  that  naught  else  could  feel ;  the  snow  without 
was  manifested  only  by  the  drifts  against  the  batten 
shutters,  visible  in  thin  white  lines  through  the  cracks, 


258  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

and  in  that  intense  silence  of  the  muffled  earth  which 
appeals  to  the  senses  with  hardly  less  insistence  than 
sound. 

Ben's  aspect  was  scarcely  so  negative,  so  colorless,  as 
usual,  despite  his  peculiarly  pale  brown  hair  and  beard. 
The  sharp  sting  of  the  cold  air  had  brought  a  flush  to 
his  face ;  his  honest,  candid  gray  eyes  were  bright  and 
eager.  His  manner  was  very  demure  and  propitiatory, 
especially  to  Mrs.  Sayles,  who  conducted  herself  with 
an  ideally  motherly  air,  which  was  imbued  with  many 
suggestions  of  approval,  even  of  respect. 

"  Howdy,  Ben,  howdy  ?  We-uns  air  mighty  glad  ter 
see  ye,  Ben." 

"  Don't  ye  git  too  proud,  Ben,"  said  Mrs.  Jessup, 
roused  from  her  inertia  by  the  unwonted  excitements 
of  her  journey  to  the  cove,  and,  since  she  was  not  too 
lazy  to  exercise  her  perversity,  thoroughly  relishing  it. 
"  They  'd  be  jes'  ez  glad  ter  see  ennybody,  —  it  air  so 
beset  an'  lonesome  up  hyar.  They  fairly  tore  me  ter 
pieces  with  thar  questions  whenst  I  kem." 

And  this  reminded  old  man  Sayles  that  the  details  of 
the  funeral  could  be  elicited  from  Ben  Doaks.  Upon 
request  the  young  man  lugubriously  rehearsed  such  por- 
tions of  the  sermon  as  he  could  remember,  prompted 
now  and  then  by  Mrs.  Jessup,  who  did  not  disdain  to  re- 
fresh his  recollection  when  it  flagged ;  he  even  lifted  his 
voice  in  a  dolorous  refrain  to  show  how  a  certain  "  hyme 
chune  "  went.  But  his  attention  wandered  when  supper 
was  over,  and  he  observed  Alethea,  with  a  bowl  of  scraps 
in  her  hand  and  a  shawl  over  her  head,  starting  toward 
the  door. 

The  dogs  ran  after  her,  with  voracious  delight  in  the 
prospect  of  supper,  and  bounded  up  against  the  door  so 
tumultuously  that  she  had  difficulty  in.  opening  it. 

"  Goin'  ter  feed  the  dogs,  Lethe?"  said  Ben  Doaks, 
seizing  the  opportunity.  "  1 11  keep  'em  back  till  ye  kin 
git  out." 

He  held  the  door  against  the  dogs,  and  when  he  shut 
it  he  too  was  on  the  outer  side.  It  was  not  yet  quite 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  259 

dark ;  the  whiteness  of  the  snow  contended  with  the 
night.  The  evening  star  showed  through  the  rifts  in  the 
clouds,  and  then  was  obscured.  The  dogs  were  very 
distinct  as  they  ran  hither  and  thither  on  the  snow  at 
Alethea's  feet,  while  she  leaned  against  the  post  of  the 
porch  and  threw  to  them  scraps  from  the  bowl. 

Ben  knew  that  his  time  was  short.  "  Lethe,"  he  said, 
with  a  lamentable  lack  of  tact,  "  I  hearn  ez  how  ye  hev 
done  gin  up  waitin'  fur  Mink." 

Her  lustrous  eyes  seemed  all  undimmed  by  the  shad- 
ows. The  sheen  of  her  hair  was  suggested  beneath  the 
faded  shawl,  drawn  half  over  her  head.  What  light  the 
west  could  yet  bestow,  a  pearly,  subdued  glimmer,  was 
on  her  face.  She  said  nothing. 

He  lifted  his  hand  to  the  low  eaves  of  the  porch,  — 
for  he  was  very  tall,  —  and  the  motion  dislodged  a 
few  flakes  that  fell  upon  her  head.  He  did  not  notice 
them. 

"'  I  hearn  Mis'  Purvine  'low  ye  air  all  plumb  outdone 
with  Mink,  an1  would  n't  hev  him  ef  he  war  ter  ax  ye 
agin,  —  an'  I  reckon  ye  won't  see  him  no  mo'.  'T  ain't 
likely,  ye  know.  An'  Mis'  Purvine  'lowed  ye  hed  been 
mightily  struck  with  a  man  in  Shaftesville,  —  a  town 
cuss  "  (with  acrimony),  'k  ez  war  mighty  nigh  demented 
'bout  yer  good  looks  an'  sech.  Now,  Lethe,  ye  dunno 
nuthin'  'bout'n  them  town  folks,  an'  the  name  they  hev 
got  at  home,  'mongst  thar  neighbors." 

She  looked  steadily  at  him,  never  moving  a  muscle 
save  to  cast  more  scraps  to  the  hounds,  who,  when  their 
tidbits  became  infrequent,  or  were  accidentally  buried  in 
the  snow  by  inopportune  movements  of  their  paws,  gam- 
boled about  to  attract  her  attention ;  rising  upon  their 
hind  legs,  and  almost  dancing,  in  a  manner  exceedingly 
creditable  to  untrained  mountain  dogs. 

"  An'  I  'lowed  I  war  a  tremenjious  fool  ter  hev  kep 
out'n  the  way  'count  o'  Mink,  —  jes'  'kase  ye  seemed  ter 
set  so  much  store  by  him.  T'other  folks  mought  kem  in 
whilst  I  war  a-holdin'  back.  Nobody  ain't  never  goin' 
ter  keer  fur  ye  like  I  do,  Lethe.  Mink  don't  —  never 


260  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

did.  An'  my  house  air  ready  fur  ye  enny  day  ye  '11 
walk  in.  I  got  ye  a  rockin'-cheer  the  t'other  day,  an'  a 
spinnin'-wheel.  It  looks  like  home,  sure  enough,  down 
thar,  Lethe.  I  jes'  gazed  at  that  thar  rockin'-cheer  afore 
the  fire  till  I  could  fairly  see  ye  settin'  in  it.  But 
shucks,  I  kin  hear  ye  callin'  chickens  roun'  thar, — 
*  Coo-chee,  Coo-chee  ! '  —  enny  time  I  listens  right  hard." 
He  laughed  in  embarrassment  because  of  his  senti- 
mentality. "  I  reckon  I  mus'  be  gittin'  teched  in  the 
head." 

It  was  snowing  again.  From  those  stupendous  heights 
above  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains  down  into  the  depths 
of  Piomingo  Cove  the  flakes  steadily  fell.  Myriads  of 
serried  white  atoms  interposed  a  veil,  impalpable  but 
opaque,  between  Wild-Cat  Hollow  and  the  rest  of  the 
world.  Doaks  looked  about  him  a  little,  and  resumed 
suddenly :  — 

"  I  ain't  purtendin'  I  'm  better  'n  other  men.  I  never 
could  git  religion.  I  ain't  nigh  good  enough  fur  ye,  — 
only  I  think  mo'  of  ye.  I  'm  mean  'bout  some  things. 
I  could  n't  holp  but  think,  whenst  I  hearn  'bout  Mink, 
ez  now  ye  'd  gin  him  up.  I  war  n't  bodacioiisly  glad, 
but  I  could  n't  holp  thinkin'  't  war  better  fur  ye  an'  me. 
Ye  'd  be  happier  married  ter  me,  Lethe,  than  ter  him, 
enny  time." 

"  I  ain't  never  goin'  to  marry  you-uns,  Ben,"  she  said 
drearily.  "  An!  now  ye  hev  bed  yer  say,  an'  thar  's  no 
use  a-jawin'  no  mo'  'bout'n  it." 

She  turned  to  go  in.  Tige  was  already  scratching  at 
the  door,  as  eager  for  the  fire  as  he  had  been  for  his 
supper.  She  glanced  at  Ben  over  her  shoulder,  with 
some  appreciation  of  his  constancy,  some  pity  for  his 
disappointment. 

"  Ye  bed  better  go  make  a  ch'ice  'mongst  some  o' 
them  gals  in  the  cove,"  she  suggested. 

He  cast  a  glance  of  deep  reproach  upon  her,  and  fol- 
lowed her  silently  into  the  house.  Their  return  was  the 
occasion  of  some  slight  flutter  in  the  home  circle,  in  which 
had  prevailed  the  opinion  that  the  young  folks  out  in 
the  cold  "  war  a-courtin'." 


IN   THE   CLOUDS.  m      201 

All  relics  of  the  supper  were  cleared  away  ;  the  fire 
leaped  joyously  up  the  chimney.  L'onidas  and  Lucindy 
were  asleep.  The  baby  in  his  night-gown,  all  unaware 
that  he  cut  an  unpresentable  figure  before  company, 
pounded  up  and  down  the  floor,  unmolested.  The  pipes 
were  lig-hted.  As  Ben  Doaks  leaned  down  to  scoop  up 
a  coal  from  the  fire,  his  face  was  distinct  in  the  flare, 
and  Mrs.  Jessup  noted  the  disappointment  and  trouble 
upon  it.  Mrs.  Sayles  too  deduced  a  sage  conclusion.  A 
glance  was  exchanged  between  the  two  women.  Then 
Mrs.  Jessup,  with  a  view  to  righting  matters  between 
these  young  people,  whom  fate  seemed  to  decree  should 
be  lovers,  asked  abruptly,  "  Did  ye  tell  Lethe  the  news 
'bout  Mink  ?  " 

"  Naw,"  Doaks  responded,  somewhat  shortly.  "  I 
'lowed  she  knowed  it  long  ago." 

"  Naw,  she  don't,"  said  Mrs.  Jessup  ;  "  none  o'  we- 
uns  hyar  on  the  mounting  knowed  it." 

She  paused  to  listen  to  the  wind,  for  it  was  astir  with- 
out. A  hollow,  icy  cry  was  lifted  in  the  dark  stillness, 
—  now  shrill  and  sibilant,  now  hoarsely  roaring,  then  dy- 
ing away  in  the  distance,  to  be  renewed  close  at  hand. 
The  boughs  of  the  bare  trees  beat  together.  The  pines 
were  voiced  with  a  dirge.  The  porch  trembled,  and  the 
door  shook. 

"  Why,  Lethe,"  resumed  Mrs.  Jessup,  turning  toward 
the  girl,  as  she  sat  in  a  low  chair  in  the  full  radiance  of 
the  fire-light,  "  Mink  ain't  out'n  jail.  The  rescuers  never 
tuk  him  out." 

The  color  left  Alethea's  face.  Her  doubting  eyes 
were  dilated.  Mrs.  Jessup  replied  to  the  expression  in 
them. 

"  Mis'  Pur  vine,  she  'lowed  ez  she  an'  you-uns  hearn 
everybody  sayiii'  the  rescuers  tuk  him  out  afore  ye  lef 
Shaftesville  that  mornin'.  That  war  town  talk.  But  't 
war  n't  true.  The  jailer  an'  the  sher'ff  tied  an'  gagged 
him,  an'  tuk  him  out  tharse'fs  in  the  midst  o'  the  dark, 
whenst  nobody  could  see  'em.  Makes  me  laff  ter  think 
how  they  fooled  them  boys  !  They  jes'  busted  up  the  jail 


262  •  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

so  ez  't  war  n't  safe  ter  try  ter  keep  him  thar  no  mo', 
an'  the  nex'  day  the  dep'ty  an'  two  gyards  tuk  him  clown 
ter  the  jail  at  Glaston, —  an'  thar  he  's  safe  enough." 

Alethea's  first  thought,  charged  with  vague,  causeless 
self-reproach,  was  that  she  had  let  Sam  Marvin,  who  had 
seen  Tad  since  the  disaster  at  the  mill,  go  in  the  belief 
that  Mink  had  been  released.  But  how  could  she  have 
detained  him  ?  And  would  he,  a  moonshiner,  suffer  him- 
self to  be  subpoenaed  as  a  witness,  and  thus  insure  his 
own  arrest  ? 

Her  lips  moved  without  a  sound,  as  if  she  were  sud- 
denly bereft  of  the  power  to  articulate. 

"  Glaston,  that 's  a  fac',"  reiterated  Mrs.  Jessup,  no- 
ticing the  demonstration,  "  'kase  I  see  'Lijah  Miles,  ez 
war  one  o'  the  gyards.  He  kem  up  ter  the  cove  ter  the 
fun'el,  bein'  ez  his  wife  war  kin  ter  the  corpse.  She 
war  one  o'  the  Grinnells  afore  she  war  married,  —  not 
the  Jer'miah  fambly,  but  Abadiah's  darter  ;  an'  Aba- 
diah's  gran'mother  war  own  cousin  ter  the  corpse's 
mother"  — 

"  I  dunno  'bout'n  that,"  said  Mrs.  Sayles,  following 
this  genealogical  detail  with  a  knitted  brow  and  a  pains- 
taking attention. 

"  Corpse  war  'bleeged  ter  hev  hed  a  mother  wunst,  ef 
ever  he  war  alive,"  said  Mrs.  Jessup,  recklessly. 

" 1  reckon  I  know  that"  retorted  Mrs.  Sayles,  "But 
'Lijah  Miles's  wife's  father's  grandmother  war  the  aunt 
o'  the  corpse,  stiddier  his  mother's  cousin,"  —  she  tossed 
her  head  with  a  cheerful  sense  of  accuracy,  —  "  sure  ez 
ye  air  a  born  sinner." 

Mrs.  Jessup  paused  in  her  recital,  leaned  her  elbows 
on  her  knees,  and  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  fire,  as  if  follow- 
ing some  abstruse  calculation.  The  wind  swept  about 
the  house  and  whistled  down  the  chimney,  till  even  Tige 
roused  himself,  and  lifted  his  head  to  listen  and  to 
growl. 

"  Waal,  hev  it  so,"  said  the  young  woman,  unable  to 
contradict.  "  Howbeit  he  war  kin  ter  the  corpse,  he 
kem  ter  the  fun'el,  an'  arterward,  ez  he  war  goin'  back 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  263 

ter  Shaftesville,  he  stopped  at  Mis'  Purvine's  air  stayed 
all  night.  An'  he  tole  us  'bout'n  takin'  Mink  ter  jail  in 
Glaston.  An'  't  war  the  fust  Mis'  Purvine  knowed  ez 
Mink  war  n't  out.  But  she  lowed  she  'd  miss  him  less 
in  jail  'n  out." 

"I  reckon  everylydy  feels  that-a-way  'bout  Mink," 
interpolated  Mrs.  Sayles.  "  Folks  never  knowed  what 
could  happen  onexpected  an'  upsettin'  till  Mink's  capers 
1'arned  'em." 

"  Waal,  none  o'  his  capers  ever  war  like  this  las'  one 
o'  his'n,"  said  Mrs.  Jessup,  nodding  seriously.  "  They 
tuk  him  ter  Glastcn,  an'  'Lijah  Miles  war  one  o'  the 
gyards.  They  tuk  him  on  the  steam-kyars." 

"I  '11  be  bound  Mink  war  fairly  skeered  by  them 
steam-kyars !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Sayles,  with  all  the  as- 
sumption of  superior  experience,  although  she  herself 
had  never  had  a  glimpse  of  them. 

"  Waal,  I  reckon  not,  from  the  way  he  kerried  on 
'cordin'  ter  'Lijah,"  said  Mrs.  Jessup,  clasping  one  knee 
as  she  talked,  eying  the  fire.  "  'Lijah  'lowed  he  never 
seen  sech  a  fool.  Mink  got  ter  talkin'  ter  the  gyards 
an'  dep'ty  'bout  this  hyar  Jedge  Gwinnan"  — 

"Need  n't  tell  me  nuthin'  'bout  Jedge  Gwinnan. 
'  Jeemes  '  air  what  they  call  him  over  yander  in  Kildeer 
County.  An'  'Jim,'  too,"  said  Mrs.  Sayles.  "I  knowed 
a  woman  ez  knowed  that  man's  mother  whenst  he  war 
a  baby." 

"  Waal,  he  's  changed  some  sence  then.  He  ain't  a 
baby  now.  Mink  kep'  a-talkin'  ter  his  gyards  'bout 
Gwinnan,  an'  swearin'  Gwinnan  had  spited  him  in  the 
trial,  —  put  Pete  Rood  on  the  jury  an'  sent  'em  ter  jail, 
an'  tole  the  sher'ff  ter  look  arter  his  prisoner  or  he  'd 
escape  the  night  Pete  Rood  fell  dead,  an'  tole  'em  how 
ter  keep  the  crowd  from  rescuin'  him,  an'  all  sech  ez 
that.  An'  what  d'  ye  reckon  Mink  'lowed  Gwinnan  hed 
done  it  fur  ?  'Kase  Gwinnan  hed  tuk  a  notion  hisself  ter 
Lethe  Sayles,  an'  'lowed  Mink  war  n't  good  enough  fur 
her." 

The  incongruity  of  the  idea  impressed  none  of  them. 


264  /.y  THE   CLOUDS. 

They  all  looked  silently  expectant  as  Mrs.  Jessup  went 
on:  — 

"  Waal,  Mink  swore  ez  some  day  he  'd  git  his  chance, 
an'  he  'd  git  even  with  Gwinnan,  sure.  An'  'Lijah,  he 
seen  ez  Mink  war  a-lookin'  at  Jedge  Gwinnan,  —  the 
jedge,  he  war  a-goin'  down  on  the  t^in  ter  Glaston,  an' 
then  out  ter  wharever  he  war  a-goiiv  ter  hold  court,  an' 
he  war  a-smokin'  in  the  '  smokin'-kyar,'  'Lijah  say  they 
call  it,  whar  they  hed  Mink.  An'  'Lijah  say  Mink  looked 
at  Gwinnan  with  his  mouth  sorter  open,  an'  his  jaw  sorter 
drapped,  an'  his  eyes  ez  set  ez  ef  he  war  a  wild  beastis." 

Once  more  the  wind,  tumultuous,  pervasive,  with  all 
the  vast  solitudes  given  over  to  it,  swept  down  the  moun- 
tain with  shrill  acclaim. 

"l  Goin'  ter  hev  some  weather  arter  this,  —  ye  mind 
my  words,"  said  Mrs.  Sayles,  listening  a  moment. 

"  Waal,  'Lijah  never  thunk  nuthin'  mo',  an'  Mink  kep' 
his  eyes  ter  hisself  the  rest  o'  the  way.  When  they  got 
ter  Glaston  the  gyards  sorter  waited  fur  the  t'other  folks 
ter  git  out  fust,  an'  then  they  started.  Waal,  'Lijah  say 
the  dep'ty  he  jumped  off'n  the  platform  fust,  an'  tole 
Mink  ter  kem  on.  An'  the  dep'ty  —  'Lijah  say  the 
dep'ty  set  a  heap  o'  store  by  Mink  —  he  war  a-tellin' 
Mink  ter  look  how  many  tracks  an'  locomotives  an'  sech 
thar  war  in  the  depot,  an'  not  noticin'  Mink  much.  An' 
'Lijah  say  he  seen  Mink  dart  ter  one  side ;  he  'lowed 
Mink  war  makin'  a  bust  ter  git  away.  Navv,  sir !  Gwin- 
nan hed  stopped  by  the  side  o'  the  kyar  ter  speak  ter  a 
man.  'Lijah  say  he  felt  like  he  war  a-dreamin'  when  he 
seen  Mink  lift  up  both  his  handcuffed  hands  an'  bring 
the  irons  down  on  the  jedge's  head.  'Lijah  say  him  an' 
the  dep'ty  an'  the  t'other  gyard  hed  thar  pistols  out  in  a 
second.  But  they  war  feared  ter  shoot,  fur  the  jedge, 
stiddier  drappin'  on  the  groun',  whurled  roun'  an1  grabbed 
the  man  ez  hit  him.  He  got  Mink  by  the  throat, 
an'  held  on  ter  him  same  ez  a  painter  or  sech.  He 
nearly  strangled  Mink  ter  death,  though  the  jedge  war 
fairly  blinded  with  his  own  blood.  Mink  writhed  an' 
wriggled  so  they  could  n't  tell  one  man  from  t'other. 


/AT  THE   CLOUDS.  265 

The  gyards  war  feared  ter  shoot  at  Mink,,  'kase  they 
mought  kill  the  jedge.  They  tore  Mink  loose  at  last. 
They  'lowed  his  face  war  black  ez  ef  he  hed  been  hung. 
He  won't  tackle  Gwinnan  agin  in  a  hurry.  Ye  'lowed 
Gwinnan  war  a  feeble  infant,  mother ;  he  ain't  very 
feeble  now.  Though  he  did  faint  arterward,  an'  war 
hauled  up  ter  the  tavern  in  a  kerridge.  They  hed  ter 
hev  some  perlice  thar  ter  holp  keep  the  crowd  off  Mink, 
takin'  him  ter  jail.  Waal,  'Lijah  say  they  dunno  whether 
the  jedge  will  live  or  no,  —  suthin'  the  matter  with  his 
head.  But  even  ef  he  do  live,  'Lijah  say  we  ain't  likely 
ter  see  Mink  in  these  parts  no  mo'  fur  a  right  smart 
while,  'kase  he  hearn  thar  ez  assault  with  intent  ter 
c'mit  murder  air  from  three  ter  twenty-one  year  in  the 
pen'tiary.  An'  I  reckon  enny  jury  would  gin  Mink 
twenty  "  — 

"Yes,  sir,  he  needs  a  good  medjure!  "  exclaimed  the 
negative  Mr.  Sayles,  with  unwonted  hearty  concurrence. 

"Mink  will  be  an  old  man  by  the  time  he  do  git 
back,"  computed  Mrs.  Sayles. 

"Now,  Lethe,"  argued  Mrs.  Jessup,  "ain't  ye  got 
sense  enough  ter  see  ez  Mink  ain't  nobody  ter  set  sech 
store  on,  an'  ef  ye  like  him  it 's  'kase  ye  air  a  fool  ?  " 

The  girl  sat  as  if  stunned,  looking  into  the  fire  with 
vague  distended  eyes.  She  lifted  them  once  and  gazed 
at  Mrs.  Jessup,  as  if  she  hardly  understood. 

"  Look-a-hyar,  Lethe,  what  sorter  face  air  that  ye  hev 
got  onter  ye  ?  "  cried  Mrs.  Sayles.  "  Ye  better  not  set 
yer  features  that-a-way.  I  hev  hearn  folks  call  sech 
looks  '  the  dead-face,'  an'  when  ye  wear  the  '  dead-face ' 
it  air  a  sign  ye  air  boun'  fur  the  grave." 

"  Waal,  that 's  whar  we  all  air  boun'  fur,"  moralized 
old  man  Sayles. 

"  Quit  it !  "  his  wife  admonished  the  girl,  who  passed 
her  hand  over  her  face  as  if  seeking  to  obliterate  the 
obnoxious  expression.  "  Ye  go  right  up-steers  ter  bed. 
I  'm  goin'  ter  gin  ye  some  yerb  tea." 

She  took  down  a  small  bag,  turning  from  it  some  dried 
leaves  into  her  hand,  and  looked  at  them  mysteriously, 
as  if  she  were  about  to  conjure  with  them. 


266  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

The  girl  rose  obediently,  and  went  up  the  rude,  un- 
covered stairs  to  the  roof-room.  After  an  interval  Mrs. 
Jessup  observed  the  babbling  baby  pointing  upward. 
Among  the  shadows  half-way  up  the  flight  Alethea  was 
sitting  on  a  step,  looking  down  vacantly  at  them.  But 
upon  their  sudden  outcry  she  seemed  to  rouse  herself, 
rose,  and  disappeared  above. 


XIX. 

upon  recovering  consciousness,  showed  no 
retrospective  interest  in  the  scene  at  the  depot.  He 
remarked  imperatively  to  the  physician  whom  he  found 
in  attendance  that  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  leave 
during  the  afternoon,  —  in  fact,  as  soon  as  possible,  — 
to  hold  court  in  a  distant  county.  He  added,  for  the 
instruction  of  the  doctor,  that  the  clerk  could  open  court, 
and  had  no  doubt  done  so  on  Monday  and  Tuesday,  and 
would  be  obliged  to  repeat  this  on  Wednesday,  without 
the  presence  of  the  presiding  judge,  but  Thursday  was 
the  last  day  for  which  the  statute  had  provided  the  alter- 
native. He  evidently  expected  that  if  the  physician  had 
any  flimsy  objections  he  would  withdraw  them  before 
this  grave  necessity,  understanding  that  this  was  no  time 
for  the  indulgence  of  professional  whimseys. 

There  was  something  so  arrogantly  disregardf  ul  of  any 
other  claims  upon  his  attention,  so  belittling  of  merely 
corporeal  considerations,  that  the  physician  would  have 
been  a  little  less  than  medical  had  he  been  able  to  re- 
press a  certain  sense  of  domination  as  he  answered, 
"  Well,  that  happened  more  than  two  weeks  ago,  judge, 
and  I  reckon  court  was  adjourned  over  to  the  next  term." 

Gwinnan  became  aware  with  a  sort  of  amaze  that  the 
hands  he  lifted  did  not  seem  his  own ;  that  his  head  was 
light  and  giddy,  or  dully  aching ;  that  he  was  fretful  and 
helpless  ;  that  no  manner  of  respect  was  paid  to  his 
views.  He  was  hardly  pleased  by  the  exchange  of  iden- 
tity with  this  ill-adjusted,  listless,  forlorn  being  ;  the  less 
when  he  finally  grew  able  to  stand  upon  his  feet  again, 
and  was  informed  that  for  the  next  month  or  so  he  must 
do  nothing  but  seek  to  interest  and  entertain  the  invalid, 
to  see  that  he  forbore  to  dwell  on  business,  to  seek  to 


268  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

occupy  his  attention  with  passing  events,  to  divert  him 
with  trifles. 

It  might  have  seemed  even  to  others  an  arduous  task 
to  amuse  with  incidents  a  man  whose  every  waking  mo- 
ment was  occupied  by  principles.  So  completely  had 
his  rarefied,  judicial  ambition,  his  pride  of  office,  his  so- 
licitous reverence  of  its  dignity,  attenuated  his  person- 
ality, that  he  cared  little  for  Gwinnan  as  a  man  ;  he  re- 
spected him  as  a  judge.  He  had  held  himself  sedulously 
to  his  aspirations ;  as  it  were  on  his  knees,  he  had  served 
his  vocation  day  and  night.  It  was  to  him  as  essential 
an  organic  constituent  of  his  being  as  the  lungs  ;  he  could 
ill  live  without  it,  even  for  a  time.  Perhaps  he  might  not 
have  made  the  effort  had  not  the  physician  warned  him 
that  he  might  never  be  fit  for  business,  never  again  sit 
upon  the  bench,  should  he  overexert  himself  now,  before 
recovering  from  the  effect  of  those  terrible  blows  upon 
the  skull.  He  became  suddenly  tractable,  wistful,  and 
turned  mournfully  to  the  search  of  light  entertainment. 
He  assented  with  a  dreary  docility  to  the  prescription  of 
a  change  of  air  and  scene.  He  accepted  without  demur, 
with  a  dull  sense  of  endurance,  the  plan  briskly  devised 
for  him  to  spend  a  week  or  two  in  Nashville,  and  if  he 
did  not  recuperate  rapidly,  to  go  thence  South  for  the 
winter.  He  was  not  given  to  scanning  his  own  mental 
poses  and  adjusting  them  to  some  theory  of  symmetry ; 
he  could  but  feel,  however,  as  if  he  were  already  dead, 
stalking  among  scenes  in  which  he  had  no  interest,  half- 
heartedly mingling  with  men  whose  every  instinct  was  as 
far  removed  from  the  spirit  that  swayed  him  as  if  some 
essential  condition  of  existence  divided  them.  It  was 
with  a  truly  post-mortem  indifference  that  he  listened  to 
the  talk  of  his  friends  who  sought  him  out  during  his 
stay  in  Nashville, — very  interesting  talk,  doubtless,  but 
purposeless,  inefficacious ;  they  cited  neither  case  nor 
section.  He  preferred  to  sit  alone  and  idle  before  the 
blazing  coal  fire  in  his  own  room,  —  expressionless  with 
the  stereotyped  hotel  furniture ;  now  and  then  he  roused 
himself,  with  a  conscientious  start,  when  he  found  his 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  269 

mind  revolving  like  a  moth  around  some  scintilla  juris 
which  had  a  special  attraction  for  him. 

He  had  experienced  a  sense  of  reluctant  relinquish- 
ment  to  find  how  the  weeks  had  fled  during  his  illness. 
Winter  had  advanced ;  the  Cumberland  River  was  full 
of  floating  ice  ;  the  town  had  the  shrunken,  deserted, 
torpid  aspect  common  to  every  southern  city  when  the 
snow  is  on  the  ground.  No  one  was  abroad  without 
absolute  necessity  except  the  English  sparrow,  prosperous 
exile.  In  the  hope  of  varying  the  tedium,  one  evening, 
Gwinnan  sat  down  in  one  of  the  arm-chairs  drawn  close 
to  the  balustrade  of  the  corridor  overlooking  the  rotunda. 
It  was  a  coigne  of  vantage  from  which  all  the  life  of  the 
hotel  was  visible.  Below,  at  the  desk,  the  in-coming 
travelers  were  registering  their  names  ;  the  click  of  bil- 
liards was  a  cheerful  incident  of  the  atmosphere,  with 
the  rising  of  the  fumes  of  many  a  cigar.  On  the  oppo- 
site corridor  the  clatter  of  dishes  could  be  heard  from 
the  dining-room,  and  occasionally  there  emerged  gentle- 
men and  toothpicks.  The  rumble  of  the  elevator  sounded 
ceaselessly,  and  now  and  then  fluttering  flounces  issued 
from  its  door  which  was  visible  down  a  cross-hall. 

Behind  Gwinnan  the  great  windows  opened  upon  the 
snowy  street.  He  could  see  the  white  roofs  opposite 
gleam  dimly  against  the  nebulous  sky.  Carriage-lamps 
sometimes  flashed  past,  yellow,  lucent  with  jeweled  effects. 
An  electric  light  hard  by  flam 3  I  with  a  fibrous  radiance, 
and  empurpled  the  black  night,  and  conjured  circles, 
mystically  white,  far-reaching  into  the  snow.  The  plate- 
glass  gave  a  reflection  of  his  long  lank  figure  and  the 
red  velvet  arm-chair,  and  of  the  innumerable  children  of 
the  place,  racing  about,  unrestrained,  in  white  frocks, 
much  bedizened.  There  was  a  dog  among  them,  a  poo- 
dle, in  his  white  frock  too,  accoutered  also  with  a  sharp, 
shrill  cry,  and  swiftly  gamboling  despite  much  fat.  He 
had  as  independent  an  aspect  as  if  he  knew  that  all  the 
legislators  crowded  into  all  the  caucuses  in  the  city  could 
not  compass  a  dog-law  that  would  interfere  with  his 
pretty  liberty,  or  place  a  tax  on  his  frizzy  head.  The 


270  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

sovereign  people  would  have  none  of  it.  And  so  the 
obnoxious  law  stands  repealed,  and  the  dog-star  is  in 
the  ascendant.  Now  and  then  he  came  and  sat  at  Gwin- 
nan's  feet,  with  a  lolling  tongue  and  panting  sides. 

There  had  been  a  caucus  in  the  reading-room  of  the 
hotel,  and  presently  the  doors  opening  upon  the  corridor 
began  to  disgorge  knots  of  men,  some  of  whom  walked 
off  together,  others  stood  in  discussion.  Now  and  then 
one  was  seized  by  a  lobbyist,  lying  in  wait.  Gwinnan 
was  aware  of  Harshaw's  presence  before  he  saw  him : 
a  liquid,  gurgling,  resonant  laugh,  and  then  the  floater, 
accompanied  by  a  colleague  into  whose  arm  he  had 
hooked  his  own,  came  through  the  door.  His  hat  was 
thrust  on  the  back  of  his  yellow  head ;  he  stroked  his 
yellow  beard  with  a  gesture  of  self-satisfaction  :  his  face 
was  broad  and  animated,  and  pink  with  prosperity. 

Fortune  was  favoring  Mr.  Harshaw,  and  few  men 
have  ever  basked  in  her  smiles  so  appreciatively.  He 
had  the  reputation  of  being  very  influential  in  the  House. 
His  cooperation  was  eagerly  sought.  In  truth,  as  a  wire- 
puller he  had  developed  marked  dexterity,  and  there 
were  precious  few  things  that  Mr.  Harshaw  could  not 
accomplish  in  a  caucus.  He  did  a  little  ''log-rolling," 
but  he  was  chary  of  the  interchange  of  favors,  carrying 
his  point  usually  by  persistence  and  pugnacity,  and  he 
possessed  tremendous  staying  power  as  a  debater.  He 
had  a  certain  barbaric  delight  in  oppression  ;  having  be- 
come possessed  of  the  opportunity,  he  used  it  often  when 
neither  he  nor  his  constituents  had  anything  to  gain.  He 
took  advantage  of  his  ascendency  to  pay  off  many  old 
grudges,  some  of  them  of  a  purely  arbitrary  construction 
and  aesthetic  nature.  He  was  in  some  sort  aware  that 
his  colleagues  were  ashamed  of  his  rough  manners,  his 
bullying,  his  coarse  onslaughts,  in  which,  being  of  the 
same  political  party,  they  were  often  constrained  to  ap- 
pear as  his  supporters.  He  continually  alluded  to  him- 
self as  if  he  were  of  peculiarly  humble  origin,  represent- 
ing himself  as  being  of  the  People,  from  the  People,  and 
FOR  the  People,  and  forcing  the  conclusion  that  the 


7zV  THE   CLOUDS.  271 

other  members  from  his  region  were  bloated  aristocrats. 
Nevertheless,  whoever  would  go  to  the  State  Senate  next 
session,  it  seemed  safe  to  say  that  the  demagogue  had 
assured  his  own  nomination  ;  for  merit  had  a  line  chance 
to  be  modest,  as  behooves  it,  while  Mr.  Harshaw  was 
shaping  the  future  by  manipulating  the  present. 

And  now  suddenly  he  was  not  quite  sure  that  he 
wanted  the  nomination.  In  these  days,  while  he  divided 
his  time  between  the  beautiful  Capitol  building  and  one 
of  the  hotels  of  the  town,  he  meditated  much  upon  Mink's 
assault  upon  Judge  Gwinnan  in  the  depot  of  Glaston. 
Not  in  the  interest  of  his  client,  however ;  even  the  most 
solicitous  of  counsel  could  not  be  expected  to  occupy  his 
attention  with  the  fate  of  the  wayward  Mink,  who  had 
passed  beyond  his  aid.  Mink's  deed  did  not  in  truth 
seem  to  Harshaw  so  very  much  amiss.  Of  course  he  rec- 
ognized its  iniquity,  being  one  of  those  cognizable  by  the 
law,  but  he  also  perceived  in  it  the  finger  of  Providence, 
—  laid  somewhat  heavily,  it  must  be  confessed,  on  Gwin- 
nan. He  speculated  deeply,  despite  his  other  absorptions, 
on  who  would  probably  be  elected  to  supply  Gwinnan's 
place,  in  case  of  the  death  of  the  wounded  incumbent, 
and  he  reflected  that  he  himself  as  a  lawyer  was  highly 
esteemed  in  that  circuit,  for  he  had  a  large  practice 
throughout  the  region,  and  that  moreover,  by  a  certain 
fortuitous  circumstance,  he  was  eligible  for  the  position ; 
although  his  law  office  was  in  Shaftesville,  he  lived  on 
his  farm  which  was  several  miles  distant,  just  within  the 
boundaries  of  Kildeer  County,  one  of  the  judicial  circuits 
over  which  Gwinnan  presided.  Apart  from  his  repute 
at  the  bar,  he  was  well  known  to  the  people  at  large 
through  certain  popular  measures  he  had  advocated.  He 
devoted  himself  to  these  with  renewed  ardor.  He  never 
allowed  himself  to  view  with  a  vacillating  mind  any 
course,  however  obviously  salutary,  when  he  had  once 
discovered  with  a  keen  instinct  that  it  was  unlikely  to 
secure  the  approval  of  the  masses.  Nevertheless,  he  ap- 
plied his  tact  with  such  success  that  this  foregone  conclu- 
sion was  not  readily  apparent,  and  he  was  continually 


272  /AT  THE  CLOUDS. 

beset  for  his  influence.  He  had  a  secret  gratulation  that 
he  was  held  in  special  veneration  by  the  lobbyists.  He 
could  ill  maintain  the  aspect  of  unwilling  captive,  when 
he  was  waylaid  and  button-holed,  and  his  attention  ea- 
gerly entreated  for  certain  measures.  As  an  anxious- 
faced  man,  who  had  evidently  been  awaiting  him,  stepped 
forward  now,  glancing  with  a  casual  apology  at  his  friend, 
who  walked  on,  Harshaw's  reluctant  pause,  his  frown,  his 
important  bored  sufferance,  were  as  fine  histrionically  as 
if  he  were  playing  at  being  a  statesman  on  a  stage,  — 
which,  indeed,  he  was. 

He  listened  with  a  divided  mind  to  the  outpouring  of 
the  lobbyist,  his  opaque  blue  eyes  fixed  in  seeming  de- 
liberation upon  the  chandelier  hanging  down  into  the 
rotunda  below,  his  exceedingly  red  lips  pursed  up  in  a 
pucker  of  dubitation.  Now  and  then  he  patted  the  toe 
of  one  boot  on  the  floor  meditatively.  Occasionally  he 
looked  his  interlocutor  full  in  the  face,  asking  a  ques- 
tion, presumably  a  poser ;  then  his  triumphant,  resonant, 
burly  laugh  would  vibrate  above  the  dancing  of  the  over- 
dressed children,  and  the  riotous  barking  of  the  dog,  and 
the  tinkling  waltzes  played  by  a  band  of  musicians  ranged 
about  the  fountain  in  the  rotunda.  His  entertainment 
in  his  own  self-importance  and  posings  was  so  absorbing 
that  the  lobbyists  and  the  advocates  of  many  measures 
were  often  at  a  loss  to  know  how  best  to  reach  Mr.  Har- 
shavv's  desire  to  serve  his  country  ;  for  he  did  not  love 
money,  and  his  integrity,  as  far  as  it  was  concerned,  was 
above  suspicion. 

All  at  once  genuine  interest  usurped  these  feignings  on 
his  face.  His  eye  fell  on  Judge  Gwinnan  walking  along 
the  corridor,  and  leaning  upon  a  stout  cane.  He  looked 
very  thin,  very  pale,  taller  than  before,  and  somehow  his 
face  was  more  youthful  with  the  wistfulness  of  illness 
upon  it,  his  hair  clipped  close,  and  the  eyes  hollow  and 
luminous.  He  moved  slowly,  and  with  little  spirit. 

Harshaw  stepped  briskly  forward,  with  a  curt  "  Excuse 
me  "  to  the  lobbyist,  taking  no  reproach  for  leaving  him 
with  his  mouth  open,  for  it  seemed  his  normal  condition. 


7.V  THE   CLOUDS.  273 

"  Why,  judge,"  Harshaw  exclaimed,  with  his  bluff 
familiarity,  "  you  look  bloomin' !  "  He  was  about  to 
stretch  out  his  hand,  but  desisted,  noticing  that  Gwinnan 
held  his  hat  in  one  hand,  and  leaned  upon  his  stick  with 
the  other.  He  took  the  judge  by  the  elbow,  as  he  walked 
a  few  steps  with  him.  A  dim  image  of  the  pair  paced 
along  in  the  plate-glass  windows,  as  if  their  doubles  were 
stalking  without  in  the  snow  in  scenes  of  which  they  were 
unconscious.  "  I  had  no  idea  you  were  pulling  together 
so  fast,"  he  continued,  scanning  the  face  which  was  al- 
most spectral  in  its  attenuation  and  pallor,  in  close  con- 
trast to  his  own  fat  floridity  of  countenance,  his  red  lips, 
his  gleaming  white  teeth,  his  mane  of  yellow  hair,  and 
his  dense  yellow  beard.  His  wide,  black  soft  hat  stuck 
on  the  back  of  his  head  accented  his  high  color.  u  But 
I  declare,  it 's  worth  while  for  a  man  to  get  hit  over  the 
head  to  find  out  how  important  he  is,  and  how  he  is 
esteemed.  I  never  knew  more  profound  sympathy  and 
indignation  than  the  affair  excited.  As  to  myself,  I  felt 
it  especially,  as  I  had  taken  so  much  stock  in  that  rascally 
client  of  mine." 

Gwinnan  made  no  reply.  His  face  was  turned  toward 
Harshaw  with  a  certain  unresponsiveness,  an  inscrutable 
questioning,  a  cadaverous  gravity.  His  hollow  eyes 
were  very  bright  and  large.  Somehow  they  put  Har- 
shaw out  of  countenance.  Something  there  was  in  their 
expression  beyond  his  skill  to  decipher.  He  became  a 
trifle  embarrassed,  and  yet  he  could  not  have  said  why. 
He  went  on  at  random.  He  had  observed  that  a  number 
of  people  were  remarking  them.  There  was  nothing 
uncommon  in  the  peripatetic  method  that  the  interview 
had  taken,  but  suddenly  he  found  it  odd  that  Gwinnan 
had  not  paused. 

"That  fellow,  Mink  Lorey,  is  a  most  extraordinary 
and  unexpected  kind  of  scamp,"  Harshaw  proceeded 
uneasily,  making  talk.  "  To  my  certain  knowledge,  he 
cared  so  little  about  the  girl  that  he  refused  to  see  her 
when  she  came  to  visit  him  in  jail.  But  the  idea  that 
another  man  admired  her  seemed  to  set  him  wild." 


274  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

Gwinnan  stopped  short. 

"  What  girl  ? "  he  asked,  in  his  soft,  inexpressive 
drawl. 

"  The  girl  that  testified,  —  Alethea  Sayles,"  said  Har- 
shaw,  relieved  that  Gwinnan  had  spoken,  and  striving  for 
his  old  bluff  assurance,  but  still  conscious  that  he  had 
lost  his  tact.  "  She  was  pretty,  very  pretty  indeed,  and 
you  were  not  alone  in  having  the  good  taste  to  notice 
it.  The  rest  of  us  did  n't  have  to  pay  for  it  with  a 
broken  head,  though,  eh,  judge  ?  Ha !  ha !  " 

There  was  a  moment's  pause. 

"  Mr.  Harshaw,"  said  Gwinnan,  leaning  against  one 
of  the  great  pillars,  the  reflection  in  the  plate-glass 
duplicating  the  posture  on  the  snowy  sidewalk,  as  if  that 
other  self,  liberated  and  in  isolated  independence,  busied 
in  different  scenes,  now  meditated,  and  now  spoke  and 
now  lifted  a  fiery  glance,  "  I  will  take  this  opportunity 
to  tell  you  that  I  believe  you  to  be  an  egregious  liar, 
and  I  know  you  for  an  arrant  hypocrite." 

"  Sir  !  "  cried  Harshaw,  starting  back,  tingling  from 
the  words  as  if  they  were  blows.  He  made  an  instinc- 
tive gesture  toward  his  pistol  pocket ;  it  was  empty.  He 
was  acutely  conscious  of  the  spectators  who  pressed  a 
little  nearer,  noticing  the  excitement. 

Gwinnan's  voice  had  a  singular  carrying  quality,  and 
every  deliberate,  low-toned  word  was  distinct. 

"  I  repudiate  your  professions  of  friendship.  I  de- 
spise your  protestations  of  sympathy.  If  your  threats 
at  the  court-house  door  in  Shaftesville  had  been  earlier 
repeated  to  me,  ludicrously  impotent  as  they  are,  you 
should  never  have  approached  me  again.  Now,"  — 
his  voice  broke  suddenly,  in  his  feebleness  and  excite- 
ment, and  was  thin  and  tremulous  and  shrill,  —  "  keep 
out'?of  my  way,  or  I  will  beat  you  with  this  stick  like  a 
dog !  " 

Gwinnan  had  lifted  the  stick,  and  shook  it  threaten- 
ingly in  his  trembling  hand.  Harshaw,  with  his  own 
reasons  for  declining  to  give  the  first  blow,  could  only 


/AT  THE  CLOUDS.  275 

shrink  and  wince  in  anticipation.  The  stick  did  not 
descend  on  him,  however,  for  Gwinnan  turned,  and, 
leaning  on  it,  made  his  way  down  the  corridor  among 
the  wondering  men,  who  slowly  opened  an  aisle  for  him 
in  their  midst. 


XX. 

IT  was  a  confused  scene  which  Gwinnan  had  left. 
Harshaw's  friends  pressed  about  him,  animated  equally, 
perhaps,  by  curiosity  and  surprise.  His  self-restraint 
had  given  way.  He  swore  with  every  breath  he  drew, 
repeating,  in  answer  to  questions,  the  unlucky  threat 
over  and  again.  "  I  said  that  he  would  be  impeached, 
and  that  I  would  introduce  the  resolution  in  the  House 
myself.  And  so,  by  God,  I  will !  " 

His  face  was  hot  and  scarlet.  The  perspiration  stood 
out  on  his  forehead.  He  ground  his  teeth  and  clenched 
his  hands.  He  would  walk  forward  a  few  unsteady 
steps,  then  pause  to  reiterate  and  explain,  and  swear 
that  if  Gwinnan  were  not  at  death's  door  he  would  cow- 
hide him  within  an  inch  of  his  life.  The  progress  of  the 
group,  slow  as  it  was,  with  these  frequent  interruptions, 
was  in  the  direction  of  the  stairs.  It  was  chiefly  com- 
posed of  members  of  the  legislature,  and,  there  being  a 
night  session,  they  mechanically  took  their  way  to  the 
Capitol.  A  few  gentlemen  lounging  about  the  corridor 
were  watching  their  exit  with  the  gusto  of  disinterested 
spectators,  as  they  disappeared  down  the  staircase,  re- 
appearing below  in  the  rotunda,  —  Harshaw  still  in  the 
van,  his  florid  face  bloated  with  rage,  his  hat  on  the 
back  of  his  head,  his  hands  thrust  in  the  pockets  of  his 
trousers.  His  friends  wore  a  becoming  gravity,  but 
Harshaw  was  too  thoroughly  a  man  of  this  world  not  to 
suspect  that  they  valued  more  the  diversion  he  furnished 
than  his  interests  as  affected  by  the  episode.  They  all 
crossed  the  office,  and  disappeared  finally  through  the 
street  door,  and  the  spectators  on  the  corridor  shifted 
their  postures,  and  tipped  off  the  ash  grown  long  on 
their  cigars,  and  commented. 

"  Biggest  blatherskite   out  of  hell,   Harshaw  is,"  re- 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  277 

marked  a  young  fellow,  who  flung  Mmself  diagonally 
into  a  seat,  hanging  his  long  legs  over  one  arm  of  the 
chair  and  resting  his  back  against  the  other.  He  put 
his  cigar  into  his  mouth,  and  puffed  at  his  ease.  He 
had  a  pale  face,  thin  dark  hair,  irregular  features, 
straight  black  eyebrows,  and  wide,  black  eyes,  quickly 
glancing,  but  with  a  suggestion  of  melancholy.  He 
was  handsomely  dressed,  although  he  wore  his  clothes 
with  a  slouching,  irreverent  air,  as  if  he  gave  his  attire 
scant  heed.  Despite  their  cut  and  quality,  there  was 
nothing  dapper  about  him.  He  had  a  lank,  listless  white 
hand,  and  a  foot  singularly  long  and  narrow.  His  fore- 
head was  remarkably  high,  austere,  and  noble ;  one 
might  look  in  vain  for  correlative  expressions  in  the 
other  features.  He  was  languid  and  inattentive,  but 
this  manner  suggested  affectation,  for  it  did  not  elimi- 
nate the  idea  of  energy.  He  smoked  a  great  deal,  and 
drank  not  much,  but  discriminatingly ;  he  was  proud  of 
seeming  reckless,  and  of  being  more  reckless  than  he 
seemed.  He  had  other  qualities  more  genial.  He  knew 
a  good  dog  when  he  saw  him.  He  knew  a  good  horse, 
and  he  loved  him.  He  was  the  possessor  of  a  liberal 
hand  and  a  long  purse.  He  had  an  enthusiastic  admira- 
tion of  fine  principles,  and  he  had  —  the  pity  of  it !  — 
his  own  definition  of  fine  principles.  He  entertained  a 
horror  of  anything  base,  and  he  had  a  command  of  very 
strong  language  to  characterize  it.  He  arrogated  to 
himself  the  finer  attributes.  He  strained  for  the  heroic 
poise.  He  would  feel  nothing,  believe  nothing,  do  noth- 
ing, that  was  unbecoming  of  what  he  esteemed  the 
noblest  expression  of  man  and  gentleman.  Nevertheless 
he  had  no  serious  objects  in  life,  no  absorbing  ambition, 
no  ability  to  originate.  But  he  could  espouse  another 
man's  cause  with  a  fervor  of  unselfishness.  The  excite- 
ments and  vicissitudes  of  the  affairs  of  others  rejoiced 
the  voids  of  his  capacities  for  emotion.  He  was  of  the 
stuff  of  which  adherents  are  made,  essentially  a  partisan. 
His  prototypes  have  ridden  in  the  ranks  of  every  losing 
cause  since  the  world  began.  He  was  of  the  essence 


278  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

of  those  who  are*born  for  freaks  of  valor,  for  vagrant 
enthusiasms,  for  misguided  fantastic  feuds,  for  revolu- 
tion. 

"  Do  you  think,  sir,  that  Mr.  Harshaw  had  no  founda- 
tion for  his  threat,"  said  an  elderly  granger,  who  leaned 
against  a  pillar,  —  "no  foundation  for  this  charge  against 
Judge  Gwinnan  ?  " 

"  Gwinnan  may  have  ruled  against  him  a  time  or 
two,"  said  Kinsard.  u  That 's  about  the  size  of  it." 

He  had  a  pedigree  as  long  as  his  favorite  colt's,  but 
this  was  the  way  he  talked. 

"It  is  a  gross  slander,  then  ;  it  implies  a  stealage,  or 
taking  a  bribe,  or  some  malfeasance  in  office,  —  the 
judicial  office,"  said  one  of  the  by-standers. 

"  It  was  very  shabby  in  Harshaw  to  say  it ;  then, 
thinking  Gwinnan  had  never  heard  of  it,  to  go  fawn- 
ing up,  pretending  to  be  so  mighty  friendly,"  rejoined 
another. 

Kinsard's  black  eyes  turned  slowly  from  one  speaker 
to  the  other. 

"  If  I  had  been  Judge  Gwinnan,  I  would  have  killed 
him  for  it,"  he  said,  with  his  cigar  held  tightly  between 
his  fingers.  "I  would  have  spilt* his  brains,  not  his 
blood  ;  and  I  would  have  had  some  scientific  man  to 
find  the  precise  section  of  the  brain  structure  which 
ideated  that  theory,  and  I  would  have  had  it  com- 
minuted, and  vaporized,  and  transmuted  into  nothing- 
ness." 

He  spoke  with  calmness,  as  if  these  things  were  done 
every  day  for  the  vengeful  in  Tennessee. 

The  granger  took  off  his  spectacles  suddenly.  He 
wanted  to  see  this  extraordinary  young  man,  who  he  had 
an  idea  was  too  dangerous  to  be  at  large. 

The  others  looked  at  him  with  a  less  serious  air. 
They  had  before  heard  him  talk. 

"  Well,"  said  a  certain  Mr.  Forsey,  also  a  young 
man,  who  had  dropped  upon  the  broad  window-seat  and 
lounged  there,  holding  one  knee  in  his  clasped  hands, 
and  smoking  too,  "  do  you  think  Harshaw  would  have 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  279 

ventured  to  say  it  if  there  were  no  foundation  for  it,  — 
if  Gwinnan  had  done  nothing  to  suggest  such  a  proceed- 
ing ?  What  motive  had  Harshaw  ?  " 

He  was  a  different  manner  of  man.  He  had  close- 
cut  fair  hair,  a  face  broad  across  the  cheek-bones  and 
narrow  at  the  chin,  sparse  whiskers  and  a  light  gray, 
wide-open  eye.  He  had  a  sedulously  neat  appearance, 
a  soft  tread,  and  delicate  white  hands,  in  one  of  which 
he  held  his  hat. 

"  What  motive  ?  What  motive  for  slander  ?  Go  to 
first  principles.  Gwinnan  has  got  something  that  Har- 
shaw wants."  Kinsard  put  his  cigar  into  his  mouth  and 
went  on  talking  as  he  held  it  fast  between  his  teeth. 
"  What  fools  we  all  are  !  We  make  laws  against  preda- 
tory beasts  and  decree  their  extermination.  Pay  a  bounty 
for  the  scalps  of  the  marauding  men,  I  say,  —  the  sharp 
fellows  who  ravage  and  pillage  and  have  contrived  so 
far  to  keep  the  law  on  their  side.  But  pshaw  !  "  he 
shifted  his  legs  over  the  arm  of  the  chair  impatiently. 
"  He  can't  hurt  Gwinnan.  Talk  can't  compass  the  im- 
peachment of  a  judge.  Gwinnan  is  one  of  the  strongest 
men  on  the  bench.  Made  the  stiffest  show  that  ever 
was  seen  when  he  ran  against  old  Judge  Burns,  who 
had  sat  on  the  bench  in  that  circuit  till  everybody 
thought  he  owned  it.  Old  man  could  have  mortgaged 
the  bench,  —  could  have  raised  money  on  it,  I  have  n't 
a  doubt.  Gwinnan  could  n't  have  beat  Burns,  if  he 
had  n't  been  above  reproach  and  suspicion  ;  it 's  a  tre- 
mendous thing  to  upset  an  old  fixture  like  that." 

Mr.  Kinsard's  views,  as  his  colleagues  in  the  legisla- 
ture had  discovered  to  their  confusion,  were  apt  to  con- 
firm his  hearers  in  the  opposite  opinion.  A  bill  was 
much  safer  when  he  arrayed  himself  against  it.  Mr. 
Forsey  was  not  convinced  that  so  serious  a  charge  would 
have  been  made  with  absolutely  nothing  to  support  it. 
The  idea  of  the  blurtings  of  an  uncontrolled  rage  oc- 
curred to  neither  of  them.  Forsey  sat  looking  so  steadily 
at  the  dapper  toe  of  his  boot  for  a  time,  and  yet  with  so 
stealthy  a  stillness,  that  his  manner  might  have  suggested 


280  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

the  bated  exultation  of  a  cat  that  had  had  a  glimpse  of  a 
frisking  mouse  in  that  neighborhood,  and  was  waiting  to 
pounce  upon  it. 

"  Judge  Gwinnan  has  the  reputation,"  gravely  re- 
marked the  granger,  who  looked  as  if  he  might  be  a 
pillar  of  the  church,  "  of  being  a  very  upright  man,  a 
most  worthy  man,  and  a  Christian  gentleman." 

"  Of  course  he  is,"  said  Kinsard ;  "  no  question  about 
it,  and  nobody  but  a  fool  would  have  thought  of  any- 
thing else.  I  am  going  to  introduce  a  bill,"  he  added 
seriously,  "  to  make  the  fool-killer  a  State  officer.  We 
need  him  more  than  a  geologist,  or  a  governor,  or  any- 
body but  a  sheriff.  A  fool-killer  ought  to  be  on  the 
State  pay-roll." 

No  one  said  anything  further,  for  Kinsard  was  lazily 
pulling  himself  out  of  the  contortions  into  which  he  had 
sunk  in  the  chair. 

He  was  very  striking  when  he  stood  at  his  full  height. 
There  was  an  air  of  dash  and  bravery  about  him  engaging 
to  the  imagination.  His  high,  broad  forehead  gave 
nobility  and  seriousness  to  a  face  that  would  otherwise 
have  been  only  sparkling,  or  sneering,  or  melancholy, 
as  his  mood  dictated.  One  might  have  hoped  that 
should  he  wear  out  his  fantastic,  aimless,  erratic  spirit, 
should  some  blow  subdue  it  and  give  it  into  h:s  control, 
he  would  develop  great  gifts  hitherto  dwarfed  and  de- 
nied. He  was  aware  of  them  in  some  sort;  he  bore 
himself  as  a  man  endowed  with  some  splendor  of  pre- 
eminence. And  others  accorded  it.  Youth  has  much 
credit  given  to  its  promise,  despite  that  it  so  often  falls 
in  the  bud  or  fails  in  the  fruit.  But  it  rarely  has  so 
brilliant  a  prospect  as  here  ;  and  after  he  had  strolled 
off  at  a  leisurely,  swinging  gait,  saying  that  he  was 
going  to  the  House,  where  a  bill  was  coming  up  that  he 
wanted  to  kill,  they  all  looked  after  him,  and  com- 
mented on  him,  and  called  him  a  fine,  high-minded 
young  man,  and  said  that  it  was  a  good  thing  for  young 
fellows  to  have  political  ambition,  and  that  it  was  dying 
out  among  that  class  generally,  who  was  too  fond  of 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  281 

making  money  and  of  using  their  time  to  their  own  ad- 
vantage. 

He  stood  for  a  moment  on  the  steps  of  the  hotel, 
drawing  on  his  gloves.  Despite  the  snow,  there  was  a 
faint  suggestion  of  spring  in  the  air.  A  thaw  had  set 
in.  He  heard  drops  slowly  pattering  down  from  the 
cornice  above.  The  blue-white  splendors  of  the  electric 
light,  with  its  myriad  fine  and  filar  rays  whorled  out 
into  the  darkness,  showed  a  deserted  street.  A  carriage, 
looking  with  its  two  lamps  like  some  watchful-eyed  mon- 
ster, pulled  up  in  front  of  the  door,  and  the  colored 
driver,  with  a  wide  display  of  a  toothful  grin,  alighted 
with  a  "  Want  a  hack,  boss  ?  " 

"  Jim,  Tom  —  oh,  it 's  Dick,"  said  Kinsard,  glancing 
at  the  dusky  face  in  the  lamplight ;  he  knew  all  the 
colored  folks  in  town.  "  Well,  drive  me  to  the  Capitol, 
and  don't  be  all  night  about  it,  either." 

He  flung  himself  upon  the  seat,  lifted  his  long,  slender 
feet  to  the  opposite  cushions,  and  with  a  complete  col- 
lapse of  anatomy  resigned  himself  to  the  transit.  The 
vehicle  moved  from  the  curb  with  something  of  the 
sound  of  a  boat  pushing  off  from  shore,  so  splashing  was 
its  progress  through  the  deep  slush  of  the  streets.  The 
hoof-beats  of  the  horses  were  muffled  ;  the  voice  of  the 
driver  sounded,  and  was  still  again.  Kinsard  smoked  in 
idle  abstraction,  hardly  thinking,  perhaps,  even  of  his 
mission  and  the  slaughter  of  the  '•  innocent  William,"  as 
he  slangily  called  the  bill  which  he  intended  to  kill. 
When  the  carriage  had  climbed  the  Capitol  hill,  on 
which  the  fair  edifice  towered,  glimmering  vaguely  white 
against  the  purple  night,  its  rows  of  illuminated  win- 
dows all  gleaming  yellow,  and  casting  dim  shafts  of  light 
adown  the  snowy  slopes  of  the  grounds  below,  he  roused 
himself  and  looked  out.  Even  after  he  had  alighted 
and  ascended  the  long  flights  of  stone  steps,  between  the 
groups  of  great  figures  that  stand  beneath  the  flaring 
gas  lamps,  he  turned,  and  more  than  once  walked  the 
length  of  the  stately  portico,  gazing  down  with  a  vague 
attraction  which  he  could  hardly  have  explained  at  the 


282  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

snowy  roofs  of  the  city,  on  its  many  hills,  amidst  the  dun- 
colored  intervals  of  the  streets  and  the  misty  depressions. 
The  heavens  were  purple  above  it ;  the  stars  palpitated 
in  the  infinite  distances  ;  a  late  moon  was  rising.  Pie 
recognized  the  outline  of  Fort  Negley  to  the  south  against 
the  sky  ;  he  saw  the  steely  gleam  of  the  river.  Spires, 
long  glancing  lines  of  light,  domes,  turrets,  mansard 
roofs,  mingled  in  picturesque  fantasies  of  architecture. 
A  bell  rang  out  a  mellow  note  ;  the  icy  air  had  crystal- 
line vibrations.  Here  and  there  the  aureola  of  an  unseen 
electric  light,  the  mere  fringes  of  lustre,  seemed  the  ris- 
ing of  some  more  cheerful  orb  ;  for  melancholy  hung 
upon  the  progress  of  the  moon.  In  the  tower  of  a  pub- 
lic building  Time  lifted  a  smiling  face  in  an  illumi- 
nated dial,  and  far  away  to  the  west  he  saw  a  planet 
touch  a  spire,  in  an  unprophesied  conjunction.  The 
lights  of  homes,  yellow,  steady,  gleaming  in  some  fan- 
tasy of  form,  seemed  themselves  a  constellation  of  more 
genial  suggestion  than  the  pallid  keener  clustered  scin- 
tillations of  the  chimeras  of  the  skies.  The  gilded  cross 
of  the  cathedral  held  aloft  over  the  city  was  sublimated 
in  the  moonbeams  and  the  fair  nocturnal  influences  ;  it 
was  mystic,  effulgent,  seeming  to  radiate  light  like  the 
consecrated  sign  in  a  vision.  He  did  not  feel  the  cold ; 
he  stood  for  a  long  time,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
his  overcoat  falling  back  on  his  shoulders,  watching  with 
his  restless  eyes  the  quiet  snowy  town  suffused  with 
dreamy  yellow  light  and  pervaded  by  long,  pensive  shad- 
ows. Suddenly  he  turned  and  went  within. 

The  House  of  Representatives  presented  a  spectacle 
not  altogether  unprecedented  in  his  experience.  A 
spirited  debate  was  in  progress.  Sixteen  men  were  try- 
ing to  speak  at  once.  The  seventeenth  earnest  orator 
was  forcibly  held  in  his  chair  by  his  friends.  The 
speaker's  gavel  sounded  continuously,  but  produced  little 
effect  upon  the  incoherency  of  the  discussion.  Other 
members  were  talking  in  low  tones  of  alien  matters ; 
one  had  fallen  asleep.  His  snores  might  have  been  gen- 
erally noticed  but  for  the  commotion.  Kinsard  glanced 
at  him  as  he  took  his  seat  close  by. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.        .  283 

"  That 's  the  best  oratorical  effort  I  ever  heard  McKim- 
mon  make,"  he  said  to  a  friend.  "Observe  how  he 
sticks  to  the  point :  iterative,  it  is  true  ;  tautology  might 
be  urged  against  it  as  mere  diction ;  but  I  admire  its 
simplicity,  its  comprehensibility,  its  continuity.  There 
are  no  digressions  ;  nothing  is  done  for  effect ;  plain, 
cogent,  impressive.  It  is  a  fine  display  of  natural  elo- 
quence." His  colleague  burst  out  laughing,  and  Kinsard 
looked  at  him  in  apparent  surprise,  lifting  his  straight 
black  eyebrows  a  little.  Then  he  asked  if  the  bill  to  re- 
move the  county  seat  of  Kildeer  County  had  yet  been 
reached. 

"  No,"  said  his  friend,  "  but  Harshaw  has  been  around 
here  after  you  three  or  four  times." 

The  speaker's  gavel  had  succeeded  in  securing  order, 
and  now  the  sixteen  men's  statements  and  counter-state- 
ments were  elicited  in  decorous  routine.  The  sudden 
cessation  of  noise  roused  Mr.  McKimmon,  whose  somno- 
lency ended  in  a  snort  and  a  conviction  that  he  had  not 
closed  his  eyes.  He  perceived  a  suspicion  to  the  con- 
trary in  the  minds  of  his  nearest  neighbors,  and  he  could 
not  account  for  it. 

After  the  House  had  voted  upon  the  question  of  pub- 
lic policy  which  had  so  agitated  it,  various  minor  bills 
were  taken  up,  and  there  was  a  good  deal  of  quiet 
movement,  groups  of  two  or  three  colloguing  together 
here  and  there,  and  Harshaw  came  up  again  to  talk  to 
Kinsard. 

"  I  want  to  know  whether  you  '11  cooperate  with  us 
against  the  bill  for  moving  the  county  seat  of  Kildeer 
County." 

He  stood  leaning  one  arm  upon  Kinsard's  desk ;  the 
other  was  akimbo.  He  knitted  his  brow  meditatively, 
and  pursed  up  his  red  lips,  arid  looked  not  at  Kinsard, 
but  at  his  inkstand.  He  had  not  altogether  recovered 
from  the  rebuff  so  publicly  given  in  the  hotel  corridor. 

It  is  always  a  misfortune  when  a  man  of  Harshaw's 
stamp  has  to  contend  with  any  degree  of  injustice.  He 
had  repeated  to  Gwinnan  the  truth,  and  for  it  he  had 


284  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

been  given  the  lie  direct  in  circumstances  undei^  which 
he  could  not  resent  it ;  even  the  original  threat  was  only 
the  blurtings  of  an  honest  rage  and  for  another  man's 
sake.  He  was  clever  in  adroitly  justifying  means  and 
ends.  To  be  armed  with  the  truth,  a  genuine  grievance 
endowed  him  with  a  force,  a  self-respect,  all-potent  in 
their  way,  and  a  wonderful  driving-wheel  to  an  already 
lubricated  and  too  alert  machinery.  He  had  an  impera- 
tive serious  air  which  seemed  to  intimate  to  Mr.  Kinsard 
that  this  was  no  time  for  fooling. 

Kinsard  was  eccentric,  ill-balanced.  He  was  made  up 
of  prejudices,  and  he  obeytd  the  impulse  of  the  moment 
as  other  men  obey  interest  or  law.  He  was  not  pre- 
disposed in  Harshaw's  favor.  He  took  a  different  view 
of  the  scene  upon  which  Harshaw  presumed.  He  looked 
up,  a  whimsical  light  in  his  grave  eyes,  as  he  allowed 
Harshaw  to  waste  his  breath  in  urging  him  to  vote 
against  a  bill  which  he  was  already  pledged  to  kill. 

"  The  county  line  of  those  portions  taken  from  Chero- 
kee and  Kildeer  counties  to  form  a  new  county  in  no 
instance  approaches  the  county  seat  of  Kildeer  within 
eleven  miles.  There  is  no  use  for  the  people  of  Kildeer 
to  commit  the  extravagance  of  a  new  court-house  when 
they  already  have  one,  —  a  frame  building,  it  is  true,  but 
spacious." 

He  looked  very  spacious  himself,  as  he  stood  erect  and 
waved  his  arm,  the  mental  vision  of  the  commodious 
Temple  of  Justice  of  Kildeer  before  him. 

"  Then,  sir,  it  is  thought  there  may  be  a  railroad  to 
the  present  county  seat,  a  branch  of  the  T.  C.  V.,  which 
will  aid  in  developing  the  resources  of  the  country." 

"  Well,  I  don't  believe  in  railroads,"  said  Kinsard, 
unexpectedly.  kk  Whenever  they  get  to  talking  about 
running  a  railroad  from  one  little  town  where  there  is 
nothing  to  another  little  town  where  that  nothing  is  not 
wanted,  I  understand  it  as  developing  the  resources  of 
the  country." 

Harshaw  was  not  in  a  mood  to  be  bantered. 

"  Mr.  Kinsard,"  he  said,  "  you  are  cither  a  fool  abso- 
lute, or  you  think  I  am." 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  285 

"  As  far  as  you  are  concerned,"  said  Kinsard  with 
mock  courtesy,  "  I  have  the  highest  opinion  of  your  in- 
telligence ;  ergo,  it  is  more  than  probable  that  I  am  a 
fool." 

Harshaw  endeavored  to  recover  himself.  He  reas- 
sumed  his  more  genial  manner.  "  Admit  that  we  are  a 
choice  brace.  Well,  now,  we  want  you  on  our  side  ;  all 
the  solid,  substantial  people  of  Kildeer  County  are  arrayed 
against  it." 

"  Oh,  there  are  some  solid  citizens  for  it,"  said  Kin- 
sard perversely,  "  or  youjd  be  willing  for  it  to  be  put  to 
the  popular  vote." 

Harshaw  looked  keenly  at  him.  "Judge  Gwinnan 
has  been  talking  to  you,  has  n't  he  ?  We  've  had  to  fight 
his  influence  all  the  way  through." 

"Well,  Judge  Gwinnan  is  a  prominent  citizen  of  that 
county  and  a  very  sensible  man,  and  if  he  is  in  favor  of 
the  change  he  must  have  good  reasons,"  said  Kinsard, 
seriously.  "  That 's  enough  to  take  it  through." 

Harshaw  cast  an  indignant  glance  upon  him.  "  Well, 
before  I  'm  done  with  it  I  '11  show  you  that  this  General 
Assembly  is  n't  run  by  Judge  Gwinnan's  influence  and 
by  his  myrmidons.  I  am  glad  you  have  let  me  know  at 
last  whose  mouthpiece  you  are  !  " 

He  walked  away  with  that  extraordinary  quickness 
and  lightness  so  incongruous  with  his  portliness.  Kin- 
sard's  black  eyes,  that  seemed  kindled  with  actual  flames, 
followed  him  for  a  moment.  Then,  as  comprehension 
slowly  dawned  upon  him,  and  with  a  wrench  as  if  he 
broke  from  actual  physical  restraint,  he  started  from  his 
seatxto  follow. 

"  No,  you  won't,  now ;  no,  you  won't."  His  nearest 
neighbor  had  locked  his  arm  into  Kinsard's,  and  held  it 
like  a  vise.  He  was  a  square-built,  slow,  muscular  man, 
solid  as  granite.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Harshaw, 
who  was  already  speaking  against  the  bill.  "  What  is 
that  man  saying?  " 

Kinsard  at  once  lapsed  into  attention.  Harshaw  was 
a  clear  and  forcible  speaker,  and  with  lucid  arguments 


286  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

ranged  upon  the  side  of  conservatism  and  economy  he 
was  giving  the  advocates  of  the  measure  a  very  stiff  fight. 
They  got  on  their  feet  time  and  again,  and  came  at  him. 
He  had  a  great  fund  of  pugnacity,  and  on  principle 
fought  every  point.  His  face  was  flushed  ;  his  eyes  were 
grave  and  intent ;  his  frequent  gestures  ponderous  and 
forcible.  Now  and  then  he  tossed  back  his  mane  of 
yellow  hair,  as  if  its  weight  vexed  him.  He  sought  to 
show  the  ephemeral  nature  of  the  advantages  urged,  the 
soUd  interests  relinquished.  Presently  his  old  slogan 
was  resounding  on  the  air.  He  was  representing  that 
the  sacred  interests  of  the  people  were  imperiled  by  the 
machinations  of  the  bloated  plutocracy  of  Kildeer  County. 
He  wanted  it  to  be  distinctly  understood  that  he  did  not 
charge  any  nefarious  practices,  any  corrupt  influences ; 
only  that  most  subtle,  insidious,  and  pervasive  sway 
always  exerted  by  the  views  of  men  of  position,  men  of 
family,  men  of  "prawperty,"  against  the  simple  will  and 
simple  needs  of  the  Plain  People.  The  high-toned  folks, 
the  few  rich  folks,  wished  the  county  seat  moved  to  Da- 
mascus, because  they  had  "  prawperty  "  there.  (He 
pronounced  "prawperty"  with  so  contemptuous  an  into- 
nation that  one  felt  one  could  never  take  pleasure  in 
paying  taxes  again.)  They  had  "  prawperty,"  and  rail- 
road stock,  and  thus  from  the  people,  the  many  of  moder- 
ate means,  who  had  built  up  the  present  county  town  and 
made  it  what  it  was,  who  spent  their  money  right  there 
instead  of  going  off  to  patronize  merchants  and  schools 
in  Glaston,  as  was  the  habit  of  the  wealthy,  —  from  this 
class  would  be  wrenched  those  privileges  which  they  had 
made  valuable.  All  those  advantages  which  had  been 
nursed  for  years,  which  were  so  much  actual  materializa- 
tion of  the  efforts  of  the  Plain  People,  would  go  to  — 
not  to  Tophet,  as  one  might  have  expected  from  the  tone, 
but  to  —  Damascus  ! 

But  he  would  champion  their  rights ;  he  would  be 
heard ;  he  would  not  heed  the  ostentatious  reference  of 
the  gentleman  from  Cherokee  to  his  watch.  Why,  he 
could  tell  the  speaker  that  these  same  influential  men 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  287 

had  their  personal  representation  in  this  House.  A 
member  confessed  to  him  that  because  one  of  these  little 
great  men  wanted  a  thing  it  had  to  go  through  this  Gen- 
eral Assembly.  "  And  so  his  mouthpiece  repeats  his 
wish,  his  tool  does  his  will ! " 

A  murmur  arose. 

Kinsard  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant. 

"Mr.  Speaker,"  he  thundered,  "the  member  means 
me!" 

There  was  sudden  silence. 

He  stood  at  his  full  height,  his  head  thrown  back,  his 
brilliant  eyes  fixed  angrily  on  Harshaw. 

Harshaw  was  dumfounded.  He  had  expected  Kin- 
sard to  quake  silently  and  secretly  under  the  lash;  to 
quiver  in  terror  lest  his  identity  be  hinted.  This  open 
avowal  had  routed  him.  He  was  in  an  ill-humor,  but  he 
had  no  desire  to  seriously  attack  Kinsard  on  a  point  like 
this.  He  wanted  to  punish  him,  to  intimidate  him ;  to 
threaten  that  most  sensitive  possession  of  the  young  and 
spirited,  his  reputation,  or,  as  Kinsard  would  have  phrased 
it,  his  "  sacred  honor."  He  had  the  usual  contempt  of 
a  man  of  forty  for  youth,  —  its  self-assertion,  its  domi- 
neering. He  intended  the  chance  allusion  as  discipline. 
He  had  fallen  under  his  own  lash.  He  stood  in  dismay 
as  Kinsard  reiterated,  "He  means  mef" 

There  was  a  general  laugh ;  the  imputation,  in  view 
of  his  character,  his  prominence,  his  wealth,  his  very  eye, 
was  so  absurd. 

"  But,"  —  Kinsard's  tones  were  grandiloquent,  —  "  in 
view  of  the  publicity  of  this  charge,  I  consider  that  I 
am  wounded  in  my  reputation,  and  I  demand  repara- 
tion." 

"I  can  make  no  formal  retraction,"  said  Harshaw, 
hastily,  "  for  I  have  imputed  no  discredit,  except  being 
easily  dominated." 

Kinsard  fixed  upon  him  a  look  of  amazement.  He 
turned  again  to  the  chair.  "  Mr.  Speaker,"  he  said, 
"the  member  from  the  floterial  district  of  Cherokee  and 
Kildeer  " —  he  sedulously  avoided  the  word  "  gentleman  " 


288  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

—  "  labors  under  a  mistake.  I  do  not  demand  the  re- 
traction of  a  word.  Perhaps  he  will  understand  this 
token."  He  took  his  glove,  and  cast  it  in  the  open  space 
before  the  speaker's  desk. 

Only  a  nineteenth-century  kid  glove,  with  two  porce- 
lain buttons  at  the  wrist,  but  it  was  flung  down  with  as 
splendid  and  gallant  a  gesture  as  if  it  were  a  gauntlet  of 
mail. 

The  old  fellows,  who  had  outlived  folly  such  as  this, 
were  grinning  at  the  revival  of  their  ancient  manners. 
The  younger  men,  profiting  by  the  traditions  of  their 
elders,  were  grave  and  quivering  with  excitement.  Har- 
shaw  was  in  a  quandary,  conscious  of  being  ridiculous 
in  the  eyes  of  one  class,  and  of  being  defied  in  the  eyes 
of  the  other.  He  would  not  do  so  absurd  a  thing  as 
to  lift  Kinsard's  glove.  Yet  with  the  significance  of  the 
"  token  "  he  was  ashamed  to  let  it  lie. 

And  the  speaker  had  a  big  job  on  his  hands. 

The  gavel  sounded  now  and  again.  Some  one,  with  a 
pious  view  of  making  bad  worse,  was  calling  attention 
to  the  anti-dueling  legislation.  Another  reminded  Mr. 
Kinsard  of  his  "  sacred  obligations  "  to  his  constituents, 
to  the  people  of  Tennessee,  to  the  House,  all  of  which 
seemed  to  have  escaped  him  for  the  moment.  Kinsard's 
colleague  had  sprung  forward,  recovered  the  somewhat 
ridiculous  glove,  and,  crumpling  it  up,  put  it  into  his  own 
pocket.  He  succeeded  in  attracting  the  attention  of  the 
chair  and  of  the  House.  He  wished  —  he  spoke  in  a 
labored  way,  with  a  pause  between  each  phrase,  and  a 
rising  inflection  —  to  remark  that  the  House  was  dis- 
posed to  take  a  great  deal  on  trust.  The  gentleman  had 
not  given  any  challenge.  Did  a  member  ask  what  that 
glove  meant,  then  ?  Why,  defiance !  Dueling  was  with 
a  deadly  weapon ;  deadly  weapon  was  of  the  essence  of 
the  offense.  The  gentleman  might  have  preferred  to 
have  a  round  or  two  at  fisticuffs,  or,  perhaps,  simply  to 
engage  in  debate.  (Derisive  cries  and  laughter.)  De- 
fiance only !  It  was  a  breach  of  all  the  proprieties  to 
mention  the  anti-dueling  laws  in  this  connection.  Too 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  289 

much  taken  for  granted,  Mr.  Speaker.  If  I  should  be 
heard  to  .say  to  a  man  that  I  would  see  him  before  din- 
ner, it  would  be  highly  preposterous  to  have  me  arrested. 
We  might  be  going  to  kill  each  other,  it  is  true,  but  then, 
again,  we  might  be  only  going  to  "  smile." 

The  speaker  sat  listening  gravely,  much  wishing  to 
further  the  acceptance  of  this  view,  for  he  considered 
the  demonstration  mere  boyish  wrath  and  folly.  He 
made  strong  efforts  for  the  adjustment  of  the  difficulty. 
Harshaw  rose  presently,  and  begged  to  call  attention  to 
the  fact  that  he  had  named  no  names,  had  given  no  inti- 
mation as  to  identity.  He  had  spoken  indefinitely,  and 
the  gentleman  had  insisted  upon  revealing  himself.  He 
would  say  that  he  desired  to  provoke  no  quarrel ;  he 
had  no  ill-will  to  the  gentleman  in  question.  He  begged 
to  withdraw  what  he  had  said,  and  he  tendered  his 
apologies. 

Kinsard,  under  the  pressure  that  was  brought  to  bear, 
could  hardly  do  less  than  accept  them,  and  thus,  it  seemed 
at  the  time,  the  matter  ended. 

It  had  been  a  stormy  evening  for  Harshaw.  He  was, 
however,  well  accustomed  to  contention.  It  was  not  this 
that  irked  him ;  he  writhed  under  the  sense  of  disad- 
vantage, of  being  brought  in  propinquity  to  defeat.  He 
was  a  man  not  susceptible*  of  the  finer  emotions  of  suc- 
cess, of  gratulation  because  of  the  thing  attained  rather 
than  the  plaudits  of  attainment.  His  sensibility  to 
achievement  was  manifested  in  a  certain  sordid  inversion 
of  values.  He  made  popularity,  position,  social  oppor- 
tunity, political  preferment,  the  end  of  mental  supremacy, 
rather  than  its  humble  incident.  And  thus  it  was  that, 
rough  as  he  was,  courageous,  -obstinate,  full  of  rugged 
nodules  of  traits,  hard,  strong,  but  limited,  there  was  no 
solid  substratum  of  absolute  sincere  purpose  in  his  nature, 
no  bed-rock  impervious  to  all  infiltration  of  temptation, 
all  extraneous  influence  ;  whatever  he  might  build  would 
fail  at  the  foundation. 

His  world  had  changed  to  him  in  some  sort  during 
the  short  hours  since  the  darkness  had  fallen.  He  strode 


290  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

into  the  hotel  feeling  a  different  man.  He  found  it  ne- 
cessary to  assert  himself.  All  the  fight  in  him  was  on  the 
alert.  He  cared  little  for  Kinsard  or  for  the  scene  it- 
self in  the  House,  but  it  was  peculiarly  obnoxious  to  him 
that  it  should  have  been  another  chance  allusion  to  the 
man  he  hated  which  precipitated  the  collision.  He 
revolted  from  the  fact  that  it  might  seem  a  reiteration 
of  the  lesson  received  earlier  in  the  evening.  He  knew 
that  many  commented  upon  the  coincidence,  and  that 
doubtless  he  was  recommended  to  leave  Gwinnan  alone. 
Now  submission  was  not  what  he  was  prepared  to  offer. 
He  preferred  that  it  should  seem  a  persistent  attack  on 
Gwinnan.  Once  more  he  returned  to  the  charge. 

He  was  serious,  lowering,  formidable.  He  did  not  go 
at  once  to  his  room,  as  the  lateness  of  the  hour  might 
have  impelled  him.  He  was  quick  to  observe  the  faces 
of  the  legislators  about :  some  were  merely  curious  ; 
others  held  a  half-cloaked  triumph ;  and  still  others  an 
open  gloating  satisfaction.  It  was  with  a  manner  which 
was  a  distinct  replication  to  all  three  manifestations  that 
he  lounged  about  the  reading-room  with  a  striding  gait, 
his  hat  on  the  back  of  his  head,  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
and  his  cigar  fast  between  his  teeth.  He  finally  threw 
himself  into  a  chair  by  the  table  before  the  open  fire  in 
the  inner  room,  and  said  in  a 'meditative  undertone  to  a 
gentleman  with  whom  he  had  sufficient  association  to 
make  it  seem  a  confidence  to  a  friend,  "  I  reckon  I  '11 
have  to  write  to  Judge  Gwinnan."  The  others  heard  it, 
however,  and  it  was  to  several  that  he  read  the  letter 
Avhen  it  was  completed.  They  thought  it  very  bold  ;  to 
show  that  it  was  not  empty  bluster,  but  written  with  all 
the  sincerity  of  immediate  intention,  he  rang  for  a  bell- 
boy, and  dispatched  it  in  their  presence  to  Gwinnan's 
room. 

That  gentleman's  physician  still  urged  his  patient  to 
cultivate  a  more  vivid  interest  in  life,  in  passing  events ; 
to  seek  to  absorb  himself  ;  to  rouse  himself.  Mr.  Har- 
shaw's  letter  very  effectually  compassed  this  result. 

The  writer  begged  to  call  Judge  Gwinnan's  attention 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  291 

to  sundry  facts  which  he  proceeded  to  set  forth  in  due  de- 
tail. He  premised  that  he  would  endeavor  to  take  no 
other  notice  of  an  insult  offered  him  by  a  man  who  was 
virtually  at  death's  door,  and  who  might  uncharitably, 
perhaps,  be  supposed  to  have  taken  advantage  of  that 
circumstance ;  such  as  the  advantage  was,  he  made 
Judge  Gwinnan  most  heartily  welcome  to  it.  In  de- 
fense of  his  reputation  for  veracity,  however,  he  felt 
it  necessary  to  state  his  authority,  besides  his  own  obser- 
vation, for  saying  that  Judge  Gwinnan  had  taken  such 
notice  of  a  very  beautiful  girl,  who  was  a  witness,  as  to 
render  her  lover,  who  was  the  prisoner,  wildly  jealous, 
and  to  result  in  the  injuries  from  which  Judge  Gwinnan 
was  now  unfortunately  suffering.  His  authority  was  the 
deputy  sheriff  and  the  two  guards,  to  whom  the  prisoner 
stated  these  facts,  swearing  that  he  would  get  even  with 
Judge  Gwinnan.  Mr.  Harshaw  begged  to  remark  in  ad- 
dition that  he  fully  realized  that  he  was  ill  advised  in  say- 
ing he  would  like  to  introduce  a  resolution  to  impeach 
Judge  Gwinnan.  He  knew  that  the  action  of  a  court  in  a 
matter  of  contempt  committed  in  the  presence  of  the  court 
is  wholly  a  matter  of  judicial  discretion  not  liable  to  be 
reviewed  by  the  court  above,  and  therefore  it  should  have 
been  free  from  impotent  criticism,  which  could  avail 
naught  to  either  counsel  or  prisoner,  who  have  absolutely 
no  resource  nor  recourse.  He  deeply  regretted  his 
words,  and  their  futility. 

The  mock  apology,  which  had  been  highly  appreciated 
by  the  coterie  in  the  reading-room,  the  whole  tenor  of 
the  letter,  the  revelation  which  it  made,  had  important 
results  to  Judge  Gwinnan,  who  was  accustomed  to  deal 
with  larger  motives  and  finer  issues  than  Harshaw's 
wrath  or  satire  could  furnish. 

He  had  such  exceeding  confidence  in  the  dignity  and 
decorum  of  Gwinnan  as  judge  that  at  first  it  seemed  al- 
most impossible  that  he  should  have  taken  such  notice  of 
the  witness  as  to  attract  the  attention  of  others.  But 
there  was  a  sort  of  coercive  evidence  in  the  circum- 
stance that  the  girl's  face  had  lingered  in  his  mind  with 


292  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

a  luminous  distinctness,  a  surprised  pleasure,  a  newly 
awakened  sense  of  beauty,  which  he  had  associated  with 
no  other  face  that  he  could  remember.  He  was  not  a 
sentimental  man.  He  had  had  few  romantic  experiences, 
and  the  flavor  they  had  left  was  vapid  and  foolish. 
Alethea  had  not  primarily  impressed  him  as  beautiful. 
She  looked  so  noble,  so  true,  so  radiantly  good.  It  was 
altogether  an  abstract  sentiment,  a  tribute  to  the  lofty 
qualities  which  he  revered  and  she  embodied. 

He  cared  so  little  for  Gwinnan  as  Gwinnan  that  he 
entertained  the  mildest  resentment  toward  the  man  who 
had  struck  him  on  the  head  with  his  iron  shackles.  The 
indignity  offered  by  the  foreman  of  the  jury,  and  after- 
ward by  Harshaw,  to  Gwinnan  the  judge  had  burned 
into  his  consciousness,  and  the  scars  would  be  there  on 
the  judgment  day.  The  knowledge  that  the  attack  was 
not  in  revenge  for  some  fancied  wrong  in  the  trial,  but 
that  it  was  the  frenzy  of  a  madly  jealous  lover  in  chains 
and  in  expatriation,  altered  the  whole  aspect  of  the  case 
for  Gwinnan  as  Gwinnan. 

The  judge  could  not,  perhaps,  have  sufficiently  con- 
demned Gwinnan's  state  of  mind  as  he  sat  down  and 
wrote  to  Mr.  Kenbigh,  the  attorney  for  the  State  at  Glas- 
ton,  requesting  that  no  action  should  be  taken  in  regard 
to  the  assault,  as  he  was  not  willing  to  prosecute. 


XXI. 

ALETHEA  SAYLES  awoko  early  the  morning  after  the 
momentous  news  of  Mink's  journey  had  come  to  Wild- 
Cat  Hollow ;  such  an  awakening  as  a  barn-swallow  might 
know,  the  familiar  of  the  rafters  and  the  clapboards. 
There  was  no  other  ceiling  to  the  roof -room.  She  might 
put  up  her  hand  and  touch  it  where  she  lay,  but  in  the 
centre  it  was  higher,  —  high  enough  for  many  pendent 
uses  :  bags  of  cotton  swung  from  the  ridge-pole  ;  hanks  of 
yarn  ;  bunches  of  pepper  ;  gourds  ;  old  hats  and  garments, 
of  awry,  distorted,  facetious  aspect  in  their  caricature  of 
the  habit  of  humanity.  The  snow  pressed  heavily  with- 
out ;  through  the  crevices  vague  white  glimpses  of  the 
drifts  might  be  seen,  for  the  dull  glow  from  the  fire  in  the 
room  below  penetrated  the  cracks  between  the  boards  of 
the  flooring,  which  served  as  the  ceiling  of  the  lower 
story.  Light  came  in,  too,  from  the  rifts  between  the 
wall  and  the  great  stick-and-clay  chimney,  which  bulged 
outward,  being  built  outside  the  house,  as  is  the  habit  in 
the  region.  It  was  the  light  of  the  waning  moon,  fitful, 
fluctuating,  for  clouds  were  astir.  Now  and  then,  too, 
Alethea  could  see  the  great  morning  star  with  its  tremu- 
lous glister,  seeming  nearer,  dearer,  than  all  the  others, 
—  splendid,  yet  tender  and  full  of  promise.  She  looked 
wistfully  at  it  for  a  moment,  feeling  the  dull  aching 
wound  in  her  heart,  and  forgetting  what  dealt  it.  Then 
it  all  came  back  to  her,  and  she  wondered  she  had  awak- 
ened again.  She  could  not  understand  how  she  lived. 
She  felt  as  if  she  could  rise  no  more.  But  the  cow  was 
to  be  milked  ;  she  listened  to  the  cocks  crowing.  The 
baby,  who  had  developed  a  virulent  habit  of  early  rising, 
was  already  astir.  She  heard  his  thumping  bare  feet  on 
the  floor  of  the  room  below  ;  he  would  be  cold,  and  she 
thought  of  the  danger  of  the  embers,  and  remembered 


294  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

that  the  sluggard  his  mother  still  drowsed.  The  break- 
fast must  be  cooked,  the  dishes  must  be  washed.  Her 
physical  strength  was  asserting  itself  against  the  shock 
to  her  mind.  Her  collapsed  energies  were  recuperated 
by  sleep,  albeit  the  slumber  induced  by  the  primitive 
narcotics  of  the  u  yerb  bag."  Ah,  the  world  of  Wild- 
Cat  Hollow,  small  though  it  was,  was  full  of  work,  and 
she  must  lay  hold.  And  so  she  rose  once  more,  and 
joined  hands  with  joyless  duty. 

Ben  Doaks  sojourned  with  them  for  a  time,  and  went 
hunting  with  Jessup,  and  brought  back  game,  and  made 
Mrs.  Sayles  presents  of  the  peltry.  As  he  sat  by  the 
fire  at  night  he  told  the  news  from  the  cove  in  great 
detail,  and  discussed  it  freely  with  Mrs.  Jessup,  and  de- 
veloped remarkable  capacities  for  acquiescence.  Old 
Griff,  he  said,  was  having  a  mighty  hard  winter.  His 
mill  had  proved  a  sore  loss,  for  he  was  bereft  of  his  tolls, 
and  he  had  planted  little  corn.  "  He  mought  make  out, 
though.  His  meat  looks  thrivin' ;  he  hain't  killed  yit." 
Ben  spoke  of  the  miller's  hogs  afoot  as  if  they  held  their 
fat  in  trust  and  were  stewards  of  their  own  bacon.  The 
old  man  seemed  failing,  and  talked  much  about  Tad ; 
sometimes  as  if  he  had  already  returned,  sometimes 
as  if  he  momently  expected  him.  The  children,  too, 
"  'peared  thrivin',"  though  Ben  did  n't  believe  Sophy 
would  ever  be  good  for  much  except  to  look  at,  and  the 
little  ones  u  all  'peared  ragged  ez  ef  she  didn't  study 
'bout  them  much." 

"  Too  many  peart,  spry  boys  in  the  cove  fur  her  ter 
study  'bout,  stiddier  them,"  said  Mrs.  Sayles,  with  a 
scornful  toss  of  the  head,  histrionically  seeing  the  situa- 
tion from  Sophy's  standpoint. 

u  Jerry  Price  'pears  ter  set  a  heap  o'  store  by  Sophy's 
looks,"  submitted  Ben,  with  the  implication  of  the 
remark. 

"  Waal,  't  would  be  a  jedgmint  on  Dely  Purvine  fur 
all  her  on  wholesome  vanity  an'  slack-twisted  sort  o'  relig- 
ion, ef  that  thar  Jerry  Price,  ez  she  hev  brung  up  ez  ef 
he  war  her  own  son,  —  though  his  looks  air  enough  ter 
tarrify  a  mole,  —  war  ter  marry  Sophy  Griff." 


TN  THE   CLOUDS.  '2  9  a 

"  Waal,  sir,  one  thing,  —  her  housekeepin'  could  n't 
'stonish  him  none  arter  Mis'  Purvine's,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Jessup,  with  an  elaborate  semblance  of  seeing  the  brighter 
side  of  things. 

"Shucks!"  Mrs.  Sayles  commented.  "He'd  miss 
mightily  the  show  and  the  shine  he  hev  been  used  ter 
along  o'  Mis'  Pur  vine." 

"  Waal,"  said  Ben,  "  I  don't  b'lieve  ez  Mis'  Purvine 
would  mind  much  who  Jerry  marries,  so  long  ez  he  keeps 
clar  o'  Elviry  Crosby.  Mis'  Purvine  air  mightily  out- 
done with  her.  She  hev  been  mournin'  fur  Peter  Rood 
same  ez  ef  she  war  a  widder-woman.  An'  ye  know  she 
would  n't  speak  ter  him  ez  long  ez  Mink  war  out'n  the 
grip  o'  the  sher'ff.  She  tried  ter  toll  Pete  back  arter- 
wards.  I  hearn  him  'low  sech  when  they  war  drawin' 
the  jury.  I  dunno  how  she  made  out." 

Mrs.  Sayles  gazed  at  the  fire  solemnly  from  under 
her  pink  sunbonnet.  "  Death  tolled  him,"  she  said 
lugubriously. 

"  I  'd  jes'  ez  lief  Death  as  Elviry  Crosby,"  said  Mrs. 
Jessup,  in  calm  superiority  to  the  wiles  of  feminine 
fascination. 

Old  man  Sayles  shook  his  head  in  negation. 

"  Mighty  dark  under  the  ground,"  he  said,  with  terror 
of  the  termination  of  life ;  which  for  him  signified  so 
little  that  a  sponge  with  a  vocable  or  two  might  have 
seemed  his  correlative. 

But  when  Ben  was  gone, — and  the  sight  of  Alethea, 
silent,  absorbed,  pallid,  broken-hearted,  gave  him  little 
wish  to  prolong  his  stay,  —  the  scene  at  the  fireside  was 
less  amicable  and  cheerful.  The  elder  women,  bereft  of 
gossip,  bickered  over  the  trifling  mishaps  of  the  day. 
The  old  man  sorted  his  "  lumber."  Jessup  slouched  and 
lazed  and  smoked.  Only  the  weather  varied  the  aspect 
of  the  world.  The  snow  slipped  away  in  the  thaw,  leav- 
ing mud  and  ooze  and  intervals  of  blackened^ce.  Then 
the  rains  descended,  and  the  scene  without  was  dimly 
visible  through  the  long,  slanting,  dun-colored  fringes  of 
the  cloud.  The  roof  clamored  with  the  resonant  fall  of 


296  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

the  drops,  the  clapboards  leaked,  and  puddles  formed 
even  in  the  ashes  of  the  chimney  corner.  The  sun  might 
shine  vaguely  for  a  day.  The  chill  splendors  of  the 
wintry  constellations  scintillated  icily  in  the  dark  spaces 
of  the  night.  But  the  clouds,  rallying  from  every  re- 
pulse, closed  once  more  about  the  Great  Smoky,  and 
ravine  and  peak  and  cove  were  again  deeply  covered 
with  snow. 

Mrs.  Jessup  bewailed  the  change.  "  I  war  a-hopin','' 
she  remarked,  "  ez  we  would  hev  no  mo'  fallin'  weather, 
so  Lethe  could  go  ter  the  meetin'  at  the  church-house  in 
Eskaqua  Cove,  an'  fetch  up  some  word  o'  what 's  a-goin' 
on  down  thar  ter  this  benighted  roost.  I  war  raised  in 
the  cove  !  I  ain't  used  ter  sech  a  dwindlin'  sort  o'  life  ez 
this  hyar." 

"  What  ailed  ye,  then,  ter  marry  a  mounting  boy  ?  " 
Mrs.  Sayles  would  demand  in  resentment. 

"  'Kase  1  war  the  mos'  outdacious  an'  astonishin'  fool 
in  Cherokee  County." 

Mrs.  Jessup  was  not  a  woman  of  great  abilities,  but 
she  had  an  uncommon  gift  of  conclusiveness  in  retort. 

Mrs.  Sayles  could  only  knit  off  her  needle  with  a  sort 
of  whisking  scornfulness  of  gesture. 

And  presently,  not  to  be  silenced,  she  demanded  when 
the  meetin'  was  to  be  held. 

"  To-morrer  's  the  day  ;  this  be  Sat'dy.  Ter-morrer  's 
Sunday." 

"  The  snow  's  a  dry  snow,"  remarked  Mrs.  Sayles. 
"  I  dunno  what 's  ter  hender  Lethe,  ef  she  feels  minded 
ter  go  ter  meetin'." 

It  never  occurred  to  either  of  them  to  undertake  them- 
selves the  hardships  and  dangers  of  the  excursion.  Even 
Mrs.  Jessup,  pining  for  the  fuller  development  and  richer 
social  opportunities  of  life  in  the  cove,  did  not  covet 
them  to  the  extent  of  exertion. 

Alethea  was  glad  to  be  alone.  The  burden  of  the 
work,  however  mechanically  accomplished,  had  pressed 
heavily  upon  her  consciousness.  The  acrimony,  the  con- 
tinual talk,  the  trivial  stir,  had  impinged  jarringly  upon 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  297 

her  deeper  absorption.  The  infinite  solitude  of  the  wilds, 
the  austere  dignity  of  their  silence,  harmonized  with  her 
mood.  She  had  craved  to  hear  the  preaching.  She  was 
spiritually  an  hungered.  She  turned  to  the  consolations 
of  religion.  Now  and  then  she  drew  a  deep  sigh  as  she 
went,  and  paused  and  looked  about  her  with  eyes  that 
felt  as  if  they  had  wept  long ;  but  they  were  dry,  and 
tears  for  a  time  had  been  strangers.  She  was  fain  to 
note  closely  to-day  the  aspects  of  the  outer  world,  or, 
woodland  creature  though  she  was,  she  might  have  missed 
her  way  in  the  tortuous  intricacies  that  the  road  had 
followed  in  striving  to  make  and  keep  a  footing  among 
the  steeps.  Icicles  still  hung  to  the  dark  faces  of  the 
crags,  grim  and  distinct  upon  the  snowy  slopes  about 
them.  On  every  side  towered  the  great  trees,  thejr 
gigantic  proportions  more  incredibly  imposing  when  fully 
revealed  in  bare  bole  and  branch  than  when  the  foliage 
had  veiled  them.  Now  and  then  she  met  a  mist,  stealing 
softly,  silently  along,  or  lurking  like  some  half-affrighted 
apparition  in  the  depth  of  ravines,  or  peering  down  from 
over  unmeasured  heights.  As  the  road  turned  abruptly 
she  saw  a  mass  of  white  vapor  against  the  sky,  —  nay, 
it  was  Thunderhead,  the  great  cloud-mountain.  There 
was  movement  upon  the  slopes  of  the  peak.  The  mists 
shifted  to  and  fro,  with  vague  gray  shadows  mysteri- 
ously attendant  upon  them.  Sudden  gusts  of  wind  swept 
through  the  forest,  rousing  it  to  motion,  to  weird  mur- 
murs. She  gathered  her  brown  shawl  about  her  and 
drew  her  bonnet  forward.  And  then  the  wind  would 
slip  away,  and  she  would  hear  it  repeating  its  mystic 
apostrophe  far  off  among  the  ravines  of  Thunderhead,  or 
Big  Injun,  or  another  of  the  mighty  company  of  the  bor- 
der. Through  rifts  of  the  clouds  came  sometimes  a  pallid 
glimpse  of  the  midday  moon.  It  had  a  strange  ghastly 
gleam  on  this  sad  gray  day,  above  the  great  legendary 
mountain.  She  stood  and  gazed  at  it  for  a  moment  in 
vague  fascination,  then  she  turned  and  went  on.  She 
saw  occasionally  the  footprints  of  small  animals  in  the 
snow.  Often  she  looked  after  them,  for  she  had  the  com- 


298  JN  THE   CLOUDS. 

passionate  tenderness  of  a  compatriot  for  these  little 
mountaineers.  Once  she  noticed  a  rabbit  that  crouched 
chilled  and  trembling  for  an  instant,  and  then  went  leap- 
ing through  the  frozen  weeds. 

She  was  not  cold.  It  was  growing  warmer  as  she 
made  her  way  down  to  lower  levels,  and  much  of  the  time 
she  walked  rapidly.  Only  when  she  cautiously  crossed 
the  mountain  torrent,  icy  and  motionless  save  that  in  its 
crystal  heart  a  stream  like  a  silver  arrow  swiftly  and 
silently  glided,  glancing  in  the  light,  she  felt  the  chill  of 
the  day.  For  the  foot-bridge  wras  hung  with  icicles  and 
enveloped  in  deceptive  snow  that  fell  at  the  touch  of  her 
foot,  and  she  began  to  be  afraid  she  would  lose  so  much 
time  here  that  she  might  be  late  and  miss  some  part  of 
the  sermon.  When  the  cove  became  visible,  one  might 
fail  to  discern  any  expression  of  the  social  opportunities 
for  which  Mrs.  Jessup  valued  it.  In  its  wintry  guise  it 
was  peculiarly  open  to  the  eye :  its  forests  were  bare ; 
the  unbroken  snow  lay  in  its  broad  fields  in  lieu  of  its 
harvested  crops  ;  its  road  was  distinguishable  by  the  nar- 
row interval  between  the  zigzag  fences  ;  the  serpentine 
lines  of  the  river  were  defined  by  its  snow  -  fringed 
laureled  banks ;  here  and  there  a  curl  of  blue  smoke 
arose  from  the  chimney  of  a  little  house  heavily  thatched 
with  drifts. 

The  church  had  for  Alethea  many  melancholy  associa- 
tions. She  paused  at  the  palings,  remembering  the  night 
when  she  had  stood  here  in  the  silent  moonshine,  in  the 
full  summer-tide,  and  the  vapors  had  shifted  about,  and 
in  their  midst  she  had  seen  the  boy  whom  they  had  said 
was  dead.  How  much  had  come  into  her  life  since  then, 
and,  alas,  how  much  had  gone  forth  forever  !  The  snow 
hung  heavy  in  the  pine-trees  ;  the  faint  moon  was  in  the 
fretted  gray  sky  above  the  mountains.  The  little  house 
was  dark  and  drear  under  its  whitened  roof.  The  snow 
was  melting  close  to  the  chimney.  She  heard  the  drops 
trickling  down.  The  mounds  in  the  inclosure  were  very 
distinct.  Some  of  them  had  a  square  of  palings  close 
about:  those  were  the  graves  of  the  well-to-do  people  of 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  299 

the  cove.  She  could  hardly  have  said,  but  for  her  life- 
long knowledge  of  the  place,  which  was  the  new-made 
grave  where  lay  the  man  who  had  pointed  at  her  with  his 
last  living  impulse,  whose  last  word  was  intended  for  her, 
becoming  dumb  on  his  lips  as  his  life  died  in  him,  —  a 
word  never  to  be  heard,  never  to  be  answered.  Here 
they  all  were,  little  ephemeral  mounds  in  the  midst  of 
the  great  eternities  of  the  mountains.  She  wondered  if 
there  were  words  to  be  said  buried  with  the  others  ; 
deeds  to  be  done  or  undone  ;  hopes  unrealized ;  prom- 
ises deferred  until  now  when  time  wa,s  no  more  for  them. 
Life  was  transitory,  and  so  she  was  minded  anew  of  the, 
preacher. 

He  was  already  in  the  pulpit  when  she  entered  the 
low,  dark  little  building,  with  its  scanty  congregation 
huddled  on  the  few  benches.  He  was  a  long-haired, 
wild-eyed,  jeans-clad  mountaineer,  with  a  powerful  phy- 
sique and  an  admiration  of  prowess.  He  was  a  worthy 
and  a  well-meaning  man,  and  there  are  those  of  his  pro- 
fession wiser  than  he  who  forget  that  they  are  apostles 
of  peace.  The  circumstantial  account  of  various  feuds 
detailed  in  the  Old  Bible  proved  of  intense  interest  to 
the  majority  of  his  congregation,  who  listened  with 
eager  faces  and  spellbound  attention.  The  methods  of 
slaughter  in  those  days  seem  to  have  had  phenomenal 
diversity,  and  certainly  exceeded  anything  of  the  sort 
that  had  ever  been  heard  of  in  Eskaqua  Cove. 

Alethea's  mind  was  too  closely  held  in  subordination 
to  reverence  for  her  to  acknowledge,  even  to  herself, 
how  little  this  discourse  met  her  peculiar  needs.  She 
endeavored  to  fix  her  attention  humbly  upon  the  harrow- 
ing details  of  barbarity  ;  now  and  then  an  expression  of 
wincing  sympathy  was  in  her  clear  eyes. 

The  application  of  the  sermon  —  for  it  had  an  appli- 
cation—  was  to  be  found  in  the  thankfulness  which 
every  professing  member  should  experience  because  his 
lot  was  cast  in  Eskaqua  Cove,  where  such  practices  did 
not  obtain,  and  the  fear  which  the  unregenerate  should 
harbor,  since  these  tortures  were  nothing  in  comparison 


300  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

to  what  would  happen  to  him  in  the  next  world,  unless 
he  forthwith  mended  his  ways. 

It  left  a  certain  trace  of  meditative  astonishment 
among  the  heavy  mountaineers,  slouching  out  to  their 
horses  and  wagons,  slowly  commenting  while  chewing 
hard  on  their  great  quids  of  tobacco.  The  women  lin- 
gered and  talked  in  a  lack-lustre  fashion  to  one  another 
of  their  ailments,  and  interchanged  inquiries  concerning 
absent  members  of  the  family.  Sophy  Griff  stood  by 
the  palings,  debating  whether  she  should  accept  the  prof- 
fer of  one  of  the  youths  to  take  her  home  on  his  horse 
behind  him. 

She  was  looking  about  doubtfully.  "  I  brung  -two  o' 
the  chil'ren  along  o'  me,  but  they  'pear  ter  hev  runned 
off  somewhar.  I  dunno  ez  I  wanter  leave  'em." 

"  They  '11  be  home  'fore  supper-time,"  urged  the  gal- 
lant. "  Trest  'em  ter  git  thar  ef  thai*  's  enny  eatin'  goin' 
on." 

With  this  logic  she  suffered  herself  to  be  persuaded, 
mounted  his  horse  behind  him,  and  they  rode  away  after 
the  manner  of  a  cavalier  and  his  lady-love  of  the  olden 
time. 

Alethea  trudged  along  the  road  to  Mrs.  Purvine's 
house,  for  the  journey  up  the  mountain  was  hardly  a 
possible  achievement  after  the  fatigues  of  the  descent. 
The  sun  had  come  out.  It  scintillated  on  the  snow.  The 
cascades  in  the  half -frozen  river  glittered  iridescent. 
The  bluffs  were  outlined  with  drifts  in  all  their  fissures ; 
icicles  clung  to  them  at  every  jutting  point,  and  the 
stunted  trees  of  their  summit,  whose  insistent  roots 
seemed  to  pierce  the  stone,  were  encased  in  ice,  and 
sparkled  as  the  wind  moved  them.  In  the  midst  of  all 
this  splendor  Mrs.  Purvine's  house  was  dark  and  humble, 
despite  the  porch,  and  the  front  steps,  and  the  glass  win- 
dows. In  the  half-buried  garden  a  bevy  of  dark  figures 
sped  this  way  and  that  over  the  snow.  They  were  aunt 
Dely's  boys  chasing  rabbits.  The  creatures,  half  fam- 
ished and  bold  with  necessity,  —  fatally  distinct  on  the 
whitened  ground,  —  were  deftly  knocked  on  the  head 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  301 

with  a  stick,  and  one  blow  from  such  experts  was  suffi- 
cient. In  the  party  was  a  smaller  boy,  whom,  at  first, 
Alethea  was  puzzled  to  remember.  Presently  she  rec- 
ognized 'Gustus  Tom,  and  this  prepared  her  to  see,  when 
she  entered,  "  sister  Eudory,"  sitting  in  front  of  Mrs. 
Pnrvine's  fire. 

The  pernicious  glass  in  the  windows  added  much 
cheerfulness  to  the  apartment  in  weather  like  this.  It 
aided  the  firelight  in  revealing  sister  Eudory's  tangle  of 
flaxen  hair  and  beguiling  plumpness,  as  she  sat,  looking 
demure  and  wise,  in  one  of  the  large  rickety  chairs. 
She  was  nearly  five  years  of  age  now,  and  a  great  girl, 
and  when  she  got  down  and  went  and  stood  behind 
the  churn,  in  an  affectation  of  shyness  because  of  Ale- 
thea's  presence,  she  was  not  hidden  by  the  article,  and 
the  handle  of  the  dasher  was  insufficient  to  obscure  her 
downcast  face  and  her  finger  in  her  mouth. 

"  Yer  aig  will  pop  an'  bust,  fust  thing  ye  know,"  said 
aunt  Dely,  the  politic. 

And  Eudora  forthwith  came  briskly  out  to  investigate 
an  egg  which  she  was  roasting  in  the  ashes,  the  kind 
present  of  Mrs.  Purvine.  The  hen  that  laid  it  was 
stalking  about  the  room  in  unconscious  bereavement. 
Now  and  then  there  was  a  shrill  piping  from  a  basket 
on  the  floor,  from  which  overflowed,  as  it  were,  a  downy 
collection  of  fall  "  deedies,"  hatched  too  late  to  stand 
any  chance  of  weathering  the  winter  except  by  being 
reared  into  those  obnoxious  animals,  house-chickens.  A 
matronly  feathered  head  would  occasionally  be  thrust 
out  with  a  remonstrant  cluck,  and  the  assemblage,  mi- 
raculously escaping  the  heedless  human  foot,  would  climb 
into  the  basket,  and  there  would  ensue  a  soft  sound 
of  snuggling  down  and  drowsy  pipings.  All  of  which 
excited  sister  Eudory  almost  to  ecstasy. 

Mrs.  Purvine  experienced  less  complacence.  "  Ef 
ennybody  ain't  got  no  baby,  an'  feels  like  adoptin'  one 
ter  take  trouble  about,  jes'  let  'em  git  'em  a  settin'  o' 
aigs  an'  hatch  out  some  fall  deedies.  They  '11  be  ez 
much  trouble  ez  twins  !  " 


302  7N  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  Why  n't  you-uns  stay  ter  the  meetin'  ter  the  church- 
house,  Eudory  ?  "  demanded  Alethea. 

The  little  girl,  kneeling  on  the  hearth,  anxiously  ad- 
justed a  broom  straw  on  the  egg  to  see  if  it  were  done, 
—  when,  according  to  culinary  tradition,  the  straw  would 
turn  ;  she  glanced  up  with  her  charming  smile  showing 
her  snaggled  little  teeth. 

"  'Gustus  Tom  would  n't  bide,"  she  declared. 
u  Waal,  now,  'Gustus  Tom  oughter  begin  ez  early  ez 
he  kin,"  said  Mrs.  Purvine.  u  Sech  ez  'Gustus  Tom  hev 
a  mighty  wrastle  with  Satan  'fore  they  git  grace.  'Gus- 
tus Tom  hev  got  a  long  way  o'  wickedness  afore  him. 
He  oughter  be  among  them  in  early  youth  convicted  o' 
sin  an'  afeard  o'  Satan." 

"  Naw,"  said  the  child,  sitting  upright  and  staring 
steadily  at  the  straw.  "  He  be  'feared  o'  Pete  Rood. 
An'  he  won't  bide  a-nigh  the  church-house." 

The  light  of  the  fire  was  on  her  face.  Its  breath 
stirred  her  bright  hair.  Her  chubby  hand  hovered 
about  the  egg  in  the  ashes.  Surely  the  straw  was  turn- 
ing at  last. 

u  Pete  Rood  is  dead,  Eudory,"  said  Mrs.  Purvine, 
rebuking!  y. 

"  In  the  groun',"  said  Eudory  unequivocally. 
The  mention  of  him  recalled  to  Alethea  that  momen- 
tous day  of  drawing  the  jury,  the  mystery  of  Tad's  fate, 
the  hardships  of  Mink's  duress,  and  finally  the  calamity 
which  he  had  brought  upon  himself. 

Alethea  had  taken  off  her  bonnet,  and  sat  down  in 
the  rocking-chair  before  the  fire,  her  eyes  fixed  re- 
flectively upon  the  great  burning  logc.  The  interior  of 
Mrs.  Purvine's  house  always  had  a  leisurely  aspect; 
to-day  it  wore  the  added  quiet  and  ease  of  Sunday  still- 
ness. It  was  evident  that  here  no  anxious  female  heart 
was  "  harried  ter  death,"  in  yearnings  for  the  perfecting 
of  a  theory  of  housekeeping. . 

Mrs.  Purvine,  sitting  with  her  empty  hands  in  her 
la^),  once  more  rebuked  sister  Eudory,  the  decorums  of 
the  day  giving  a  more  stringent  interpretation  to  her 
code  of  manners. 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  303 

"Ye  must  n't  say  'Gustus  Tom  air  'feard  o'  Pete 
Rood,  'kase  he  air  dead." 

"  That 's  what  'Gustus  Tom  say  —  he  say  don't  talk 
'bout'n  it."  Eudora  looked  up  gravely.  "  He  be  wusser 
'feard  now  'n  he  war  when  Pete  Rood  war  'live." 

There  was  a  sudden  hand  on  the  latch,  and  'Gustus 
Tom  came  hastily  in. 

"  Look-a-hyar,  sister  Eudory !  "  he  cried  remonstrantly, 
seizing  her  by  the  arm,  "  what  ails  ye  ter  let  yer  tongue 
break  loose  that-a-way  ?  Shet  up !  Ye  promised  ye 
wouldn't  tell." 

He  had  an  excited,  grave,  frightened  look  that  was  in- 
congruous with  the  roguish  cast  of  his  features  ;  his  torn 
old  hat  was  jauntily  askew  ;  his  clothes  were  ragged ;  a 
single  suspender  seemed  quite  adequate  to  support  so 
many  holes  ;  his  shoes  were  broken.  There  was  a  dis- 
tinct deprecation  and  anxiety  in  his  face  more  pitiable 
than  poverty,  as  he  looked  from  one  to  the  other  of  the 
women.  He  was  evidently  wondering  how  much  of  his 
secrets  the  faithless  sister  Eudory  had  told.  He  could 
not  control  his  fears.  He  broke  out  suddenly : 

"  Hev  she  tole  'bout'n  what  I  done  ?  " 

Mrs.  Purvine,  who  was  jocose  with  children,  and  who 
could  not  appreciate  at  this  stage  of  the  disclosure  that 
anything  of  moment  impended,  folded  her  arms  slowly 
across  her  bosom,  looked  at  him  over  her  spectacles,  a 
great  deal  of  the  whites  of  her  blue  eyes  showing,  and 
with  mock  solemnity  nodded  assent. 

"  Waal,  waal  —  did  she  tell  'bout'n  the  —  the  mill, 
too?" 

Aunt  Dely  shook  her  head  in  burlesque  reproach. 
"  She  hev  tole  on  ye,  'Gustus  Tom.  Yer  wicked  ways 
air  made  plain." 

His  eyes  were  wildly  starting  from  his  head ;  he 
caught  his  breath  in  quick  gasps.  The  little  girl  first 
detected  the  genuine  terror  which  he  was  suffering,  and 
as  she  held  his  hand  she  began  to  whimper  and  to  lay 
her  head  against  his  ragged  shirt-sleeve. 

"  Oh,   Mis'  Purvine,"   cried  'Gustus  Tom,  "  I  never 


304  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

knowed  af orehand  how  't  war  goin'  ter  turn  out,  else  I  'd 
never  hev  gone  thar  that  night,  an'  I  would  n't  hev 
knowed  no  mo'  'bout  who  bust  down  the  mill  'n  nobody 
else  !  " 

"Didn't  Mink  bust  the   mill  down?"    asked  Mrs. 
Pur  vine,  staring. 

"Naw,"  said  'Gustus  Tom,  miserably,  "Mink  never." 
Aunt  Dely  suddenly  sat  upright,  and  took  her  specta- 
cles from  her  astonished  eyes.     She  was  about  to  speak 
sharply,  but  met  Alethea's  warning  glance,  and  desisted. 


XXII. 

CONSCIENCE,  the  great  moral  inquisitor,  whose  sessions 
are  held  in  secret,  whose  absolute  justice  is  untempered 
by  mercy,  whose  processes  are  unrelated  and  superior  to 
the  laws  of  the  land,  makes  manifest  its  decrees  only  at 
such  long  intervals  that  we  are  prone  to  consider  their 
results  exceptional.  Although  its  measures  are  inva- 
riably meted,  they  are  seldom  so  plainly  set  forth  as  in 
Peter  Rood's  fate.  Alethea,  listening  to  'Gustus  Tom's 
story,  saw  in  aghast  dismay  how  he  had  been  pursued 
by  those  terrible  potencies  of  the  right  which  he  had 
sought  to  disregard.  Many  things  that  had  been  vague 
were  made  distinct.  She  understood  suddenly  the  mean- 
ing of  the  strange  words  he  had  spoken  'at  the  camp- 
meeting,  when  his  spiritual  struggles  had  nearly  betrayed 
him.  She  divined  the  mingled  fear  and  self-reproach, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  cowardly  gratulation  he  ex- 
perienced because  of  his  fancied  security,  when  en- 
trapped to  serve  on  the  jury.  She  remembered  with  a 
new  comprehension  his  joyous  excitement  when  it  ap- 
peared that  the  idiot  boy  had  not  been  drowned,  and 
the  pallid  anguish  on  his  face  as  the  lawyer  dexterously 
reversed  the  probabilities.  It  might  seem  that  he  had 
expiated  his  deed,  but  the  extremest  penalties  were  not 
abated.  He  had  been  a  pillar  in  the  church,  renowned 
for  a  certain  insistent  piety,  and  zealous  to  foster  good 
repute  among  men ;  and  this  last  possession  that  he  held 
dear  upon  earth,  which  may  be  maintained  even  by  a 
dead  man,  who  can  carry  naught  out  of  the  world,  was 
wrested  from  him. 

The  truth  which  he  had  so  feared,  which  he  had  so 
labored  to  hide,  over  which  the  grave  had  seemed  to 
close,  was  at  last  brought  to  light  by  very  simple  means. 


306  /2V  THE   CLOUDS. 

On  the  eventful  morning,  the  miller's  erratic  grand- 
son, awaking  early,  he  knew  not  why,  had  sought  to 
utilize  the  occurrence  by  robbing  an  owl's  nest  in  the 
hollow  of  a  tree  beside  the  mill.  The  day  had  not  yet 
dawned,  and  he  hoped  that  one  or  the  other  of  the  great 
birds  would  be  away  on  its  nocturnal  foragings,  so  that 
he  might  the  more  easily  secure  the  owlet,  which  he  had 
long  wanted  for  a  pet.  It  was  very  still,  'Gustus  Tom 
said.  The  frogs  by  the  water  had  ceased  their  croaking  ; 
the  katydids  were  silenced  long  ago  ;  he  heard  only  the 
surging  monotone  of  the  gleaming  cascade  falling  over 
the  natural  dam.  He  had  climbed  the  tree  to  the  lower 
limbs,  and  had  perched  on  one  of  them  to  rest  for  a  mo- 
ment, when  there  broke  upon  the  air  the  sound  of  the 
galloping  of  a  horse  far  away,  approaching  at  a  tre- 
mendous rate  of  speed.  Presently  he  came  into  view, 
his  head  stretched  forward,  his  coat  flecked  with  foam, 
his  rider  plying  both  heel  and  whip. 

This  rider  was  Peter  Rood,  whom  'Gustus  Tom  knew 
well,  as  he  often  came  to  the  mill.  He  dismounted 
hastily,  close  to  the  water-side.  He  walked  uncertainly, 
even  pausing  sometimes  to  steady  himself  by  holding  to 
the  supports  of  the  old  mill.  He  was  evidently  very 
drunk,  and  thus  it  appeared  to  'Gustus  Tom  the  less  sur- 
prising that  he  should  drag  two  or  three  fence  rails 
stranded  on  the  margin  of  the  river,  —  which  was  high 
and  full  of  floating  rubbish,  —  and  laboriously  place 
them  in  a  position  to  cumber  the  wheel ;  an  empty  bar- 
rel, too,  he  found  and  put  to  this  use,  some  poles,  drift- 
wood. He  paused  after  a  careful  survey  of  his  work, 
and  held  up  his  head,  looking  away  toward  the  east,  as 
if  he  were  listening.  It  seemed  to  'Gustus  Tom,  all 
veiled  by  the  dew-tipped  chestnut  leaves,  that  Rood 
was  strangely  intent  of  purpose  for  a  drunken  man. 
He  heard,  long  before  the  boy  did,  some  monition  of 
approach  in  the  distance,  for  he  caught  eagerly  at 
his  horse's  bridle.  Yet  he  was  drunk  enough  to  find 
difficulty  in  mounting.  As  the  animal  swerved,  he  was 
obliged  to  grasp  the  stirrup  with  one  hand  in  order  to 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  307 

steady  it,  so  that  he  could  put  his  foot  in  it ;  then  he 
flung  his  right  leg  over  the  saddle,  and  away  he  went 
along  the  grassy  margin  of  the  road,  —  noiseless,  swift, 
dark,  like  some  black  shadow,  some  noxious  exhalation 
of  the  night. 

'Gustus  Tom  explained  at  this  point,  with  tears  and 
many  anxious  twistings  of  the  button  on  his  shirt  front, 
—  which  was  quite  useless,  the  correlative  button-hole 
being  torn  out,  —  that  he  understood  so  little  of  what  all 
this  meant  at  the  time  that  it  seemed  to  him  the  only 
important  point  involved  was  to  remember  to  tell  his 
grandfather  early  in  the  day  of  Pete  Rood's  drunken 
freak  of  clogging  the  mill-wheel.  He  did  not  call  out 
and  make  his  presence  known,  because  he  was  frightened 
by  the  man's  strange  conduct  and  terrible  look.  As  he 
still  sat  meditating  on  the  limb  of  the  tree,  the  sound 
which  had  aroused  Peter  Rood  again  broke  upon  the 
silence.  Once  more  the  regular  thud  of  hoofs  —  of 
many  hoofs.  The  pace  was  far  slower  than  the  rattling 
gallop  at  which  Pete  Rood  had  come.  There  were 
several  men  in  the  group  that  presently  appeared.  'Gus- 
tus Tom  knew  some  of  them,  —  he  could  n't  help  know- 
ing Mink  Lorey  from  far  off ;  he  looked  so  wild  and 
gamesome  ;  the  moonlight  was  on  his  face  and  all  his 
hair  was  flying.  He  knew  Mink  well.  Mink  it  was 
who  climbed  the  timbers  of  the  race  and  lifted  the  gate. 
And  once  more  'Gustus  Tom,  with  quivering  lips  and 
twisting  the  futile  button  on  his  shirt  front,  began  to  ex- 
culpate himself.  He  did  not  understand  what  Mink 
was  about  to  do  until  the  gate  was  lifted  and  the  water 
surged  through.  The  wheel,  turning  with  its  curiously 
contrived  clogs,  jerked  spasmodically,  gave  sudden  vio- 
lent wrenches,  finally  breaking  and  crashing  against  the 
shanty,  that  itself  tottered  and  careened  and  fell.  He 
heard  Tad  scream,  for  the  idiot,  having  incurred  the 
miller's  displeasure  during  the  day,  had  been  locked  in 
the  mill,  supperless,  to  sleep.  'Gustus  Tom  did  not  see 
the  boy  in  the  river,  because  of  the  falling  timbers,  the 
clouds  of  dust  and  flour  and  meal,  and  the  commotion 


308  7N    THE   CLOUDS. 

of  the  water.  The  men  galloped  away,  Mink  among 
them.  For  the  house  had  been  alarmed  by  the  noise  ; 
old  Griff  ran  out,  wringing  his  hands  and  crying  aloud, 
first  for  the  loss  of  the  mill,  then  for  the  fate  of  the  idiot. 
The  others  of  the  family  came,  too.  'Gustus  Tom  easily 
slipped  down  unobserved  from  the  tree,  in  the  midst  of 
the  excitement,  and  no  one  was  aware,  except  sister 
Eudory,  that  he  knew  more  than  the  rest.  Lately  she 
had  noticed  that  he  was  afraid  of  the  dark  and  would 
not  sit  alone ;  and  she  had  begun  to  say  so  much  of  this 
that  he  was  alarmed  lest  she  might  excite  the  suspicions 
of  others.  And  so,  thinking  she  would  keep  his  secret, 
—  he  would  have  divulged  it  to  no  one  else,  —  he  told 
her  that  he  was  afraid  of  Peter  Rood,  who  was  dead, 
and  who  perhaps  had  found  out  in  the  other  world  that 
he  knew  the  secret,  and  would  come  and  haunt  him  to 
make  sure  that  he  did  not  reveal  it.  And  at  the  re- 
newal of  these  ghastly  terrors  'Gustus  Tom  bent  his 
head  upon  his  arm,  and  began  to  sob  afresh. 

"  Why  did  n't  ye  tell  at  fust,  'Gustus  Tom  ?  "  asked 
Alethea,  her  mind  futilely  reviewing  the  complications 
that  circumstance  had  woven  about  Mink  Lorey. 

'Gustus  Tom  lifted  his  head,  a  gleam  of  this  world's 
acumen  shining  through  the  tears  in  his  eyes. 

"  He  'd  hev  walloped  the  life  out'n  me,  ef  I  hed  told. 
He  kem  nigh  every  day  ter  the  mill  arterward,  whenst 
they  war  a-s'archin'  fur  the  body.  An'  his  eyes  looked 
so  black  an'  mad  an'  cur'ous  whenst  he  cut  'em  round  at 
me,  I  lowed  he  knowed  what  I  knowed.  An'  I  war 
afeard  o'  him." 

Aunt  Dely  could  not  be  altogether  repressed.  "Waal, 
'Gustus  Tom,  ye  air  a  bad  aig,"  she  remarked,  politely. 
"  Ye  ter  know  all  that  whenst  ye  war  down  thar  at 
Shaftesville,  along  o'  yer  gran 'dad,  an'  seen  them  men 
a-talkin'  by  the  yard-medjure,  an'  a-cavortin'  'bout  in 
the  court,  ez  prideful  ez  ef  thar  brains  war  ez  nimble  ez 
thar  tongues  ;  an'  ye  look  at  'em  try  Mink  fur  bustin' 
down  the  mill  an'  drowndin'  Tad,  an'  ye  ter  know  ez 
Pete  Rood  done  it,  —  an'  ye  say  nuthin' !  " 


/AT  THE   CLOUDS.  309 

"Waal,"  said  'Gustus  Tom,  sorely  beset,  "he  war 
a-settin'  thar  in  the  cheer ;  he  could  hev  told  hisself ." 

"  Why  n't  ye  tell  arter  he  drapped  dead  ? "  sug- 
gested the  politic  Mrs.  Purvine. 

The  boy  winced  at  the  recollection.  "  He  looked  so 
awful !  "  he  said,  putting  up  his  hand  to  his  eyes  as  if  to 
shut  out  the  image  presented.  "  I  war  'feared  he  'd 
harnt  me." 

It  occurred  to  sister  Eudora  that  this  investigation 
was  degenerating  into  a  persecution  of  'Gustus  Tom. 
She  had  looked  from  one  to  the  other  in  grave  excite- 
ment and  with  a  flushing  face,  as  she  stood  on  the 
hearth,  the  breath  from  the  fire  waving  her  flaxen  hair, 
hanging  upon  her  shoulders. 

Suddenly,  with  an  accession  of  color,  she  stepped 
across  the  broad,  ill-joined  stones,  and,  fixing  a  threaten- 
ing eye  on  Mrs.  Purvine's  moon-face,  she  lifted  her  fat 
hand,  and  retributively  smote  that  lady  on  the  knee. 

'Gustus  Tom  had  never  manifested  any  special  desire 
to  suit  his  own  conduct  to  a  high  standard  of  deport- 
ment, but  he  appeared  to  entertain  the  most  sedulous 
solicitude  concerning  sister  Eudory's  manners,  and  to  be 
jealous  that  she  should  be  esteemed  the  pink  of  juvenile 
propriety.  His  mortification  at  the  present  lapse  was 
very  great.  It  expressed  itself  in  such  unequivocal 
phrase,  such  energetic  shakings  of  his  tow-head,  which 
seemed  communicated,  with  diminished  rigor,  however, 
to  her  plump  little  shoulders,  —  for  he  went  through  all 
the  motions  of  discipline,  —  that  Mrs.  Purvine,  beaming 
with  injudicious  laughter,  was  forced  to  interfere.  Her 
indulgence  did  not  serve  to  reassure  sister  Eudory,  who 
stood  dismayed  at  the  fullness  of  fraternal  displeasure. 
She  presently  put  her  hands  before  her  eyes,  although 
she  did  not  shed  tears,  and  thus  she  was  led  toward  the 
door,  to  be  taken  home  as  unfit  for  polite  society.  Mrs. 
Purvine  hurried  after  her,  carrying  the  roasted  egg  — 
which  was  very  hot,  in  its  shell  —  between  two  chips, 
and  further  pressing  upon  her  a  present  of  a  sweet- 
potato,  an  ear  of  pop-corn,  and  a  young  kitten,  all  of 


310  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

which  sister  Eudory,  regardless  of  the  animate  and  the 
inanimate,  the  hot  and  the  cold,  carried  together  in  her 
apron.  The  affront  t  was  but  a  slight  matter  to  aunt 
Dely,  whose  lenient  temperament  precluded  her  from 
viewing  it  as  an  enormity ;  but  as  the  brother  and  sister 
went  away  in  humiliation,  one  could  well  guess  that 
sister  Eudora  would  be  a  woman  grown  before  she  would 
be  allowed  to  contemplate  with  indifference  the  dreadful 
day  when  she  "  hit  Mis'  Purvine." 

In  whatever  manner  it  might  have  seemed  judicious 
to  make  use,  in  Mink's  interest,  of  the  disclosures  of 
Peter  Rood's  agency  in  the  destruction  of  the  mill,  any- 
thing like  caution,  or  reserve,  or  secrecy  was  rendered 
impossible  by  the  circumstance  that  it  was  Mrs.  Purvine 
who  shared  in  the  discovery  of  the  fact.  For  weeks  no 
one  passed  the  house,  going  or  coming  on  the  winding 
road,  whom  she  did  not  descry  through  the  worldly  glass 
windows,  —  which  thus  demonstrated  an  additional  jus- 
tification for  their  existence,  —  and  whom  she  did  not 
hail  with  a  loud  outcry  from  the  unsteady  flight  of  steps, 
and  bring  to  a  not  unwilling  pause  as  she  hurried  out  to 
the  fence,  with  her  glib  tongue  full  of  words.  There 
was  no  weather  too  cold  for  the  indulgence  of  this  gossip. 
Sometimes  aunt  Dely  would  merely  fling  her  apron  over 
her  head,  if  the  exigency  suggested  haste  ;  or  she  would 
hood  herself  with 'her  shawl,  like  a  cowled  friar,  and 
stand  in  the  snow,  defiant  of  the  rigors  of  the  tempera- 
ture. More  often,  however,  the  passer-by  would  suffer 
himself  to  be  persuaded  to  come  in  and  sit  down  by  aunt 
Dely's  fire,  and  discuss  with  her  all  the  details  so  tardily 
elicited.  Pete  Rood's  death,  considered  as  a  judgment 
upon  him,  was  a  favorite  point  of  contemplation,  offer- 
ing that  symmetrical  exposition  of  cause  and  effect,  sin 
and  retribution,  peculiarly  edifying  to  the  obdurate  in 
heart  and  acceptable  to  the  literalist  in  religion.  So 
much  was  said  on  this  subject  at  the  store,  and  the 
blacksmith-shop,  and  the  saw-mill,  —  those  places  where 
the  mountain  cronies  most  congregated, — that  it  came  to 
the  ear  of  Rood's  relatives  with  all  the  added  poignancy 


IN  THE    CLOUDS.  311 

of  comment.  They  indignantly  maintained  that  only 
the  ingenuity  of  malice  could  feign  to  attach  any  special 
meaning  to  the  moment  or  manner  of  his  death,  for  it 
was  widely  known  that  he  had  for  years  suffered  from  a 
serious  affection  of  the  heart ;  they  stigmatized  the  whole 
story  as  an  effort  to  blacken  his  name  in  order  to  clear 
Mink  Lorey.  Their  attitude  and  sentiment  enlisted  a 
certain  sympathy,  and  it  was  only  when  they  were  not 
of  the  company  that  the  counter-replication  was  made 
that  it  was  a  supremely  significant  moment  when  Peter 
Rood's  doom  fell  upon  him,  and  that  it  behooves  those 
who  sit  in  the  shadow  of  death  to  be  not  easily  diverted 
from  the  true  interpretation  of  the  darkling  signs  of  the 
wrath  of  God. 

It  was  a  scene  of  pathetic  interest  when  his  aged 
mother,  resolved  upon  forcing  a  recantation,  came  herself 
to  the  miller's  home.  A  dark,  withered,  white-haired 
crone  she  was,  with  a  hooked  nose  and  a  keen,  fierce, 
intent  eye  that  suggested  strength  of  mind  and  purpose 
defying  age  and  ailments.  She  shrewdly  questioned  the 
boy,  and  sought  to  involve  him  in  discrepancies  and  to 
elicit  some  admission  that  the  story  had  been  prompted 
by  Alethea  Sayles.  Her  dark-browed  sons  stood  about 
the  great  white-covered  ox-wagon,  their  bemired  boots 
drawn  high  over  their  trousers,  their  broad  hats  pulled 
down  to  their  lowering  eyes,  maintaining  a  sedulous  si- 
lence. So  strong  a  family  resemblance  existed  between 
them  and  the  dead  man  that  'Gustus  Tom  was  greatly 
perturbed  as  from  time  to  time  he  glanced  at  them ; 
looking  away  instantly  with  a  resolution  to  see  them  ne 
more,  and  yet  again  with  a  morbid  fascination  turning 
his  eyes  to  meet  theirs,  before  whose  dark  and  solemn 
anger  he  quailed.  Now  and  then  the  sobs  would  burst 
from  him,  and  he  would  lay  his  head  on  his  arm  against 
the  rails,  as  he  cowered  in  the  fence  corner  ;  for  the  old 
woman  would  not  enter  the  miller's  house,  but  stood 
upon  the  fro/en  crust  of  snow  by  the  roadside,  and 
looked  upon  the  denuded  site  of  the  mill,  and  the  tur- 
bulent river,  and  the  austere  bleak  bluffs  on  the  oppo- 


312  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

site  bank.  The  miller  peered  out  from  his  door,  himself 
the  impersonation  of  winter,  his  snowy  locks  and  beard 
falling  about  his  rugged  face  ;  the  desolate  little  shanty 
was  plainly  to  be  seen  among  the  naked  and  writhen 
boughs  of  the  orchard,  that  bore  only  snow  and  icicles 
in  the  stead  of  the  bloom  and  fruit  they  had  known. 

Cross-questioning,  threats,  all  the  devices  of  sugges- 
tion, availed  naught.  The  terrible  story  once  told,  'Gus- 
tus  Tom  found  the  pluck  somehow  to  stand  by  it  with- 
out other  support  than  the  uncognizant  affection  of 
sister  Eudory ;  for  the  shallow  Sophy  cared  for  none  of 
it.  She  came  to  the  door  once  to  lead  the  old,  man 
within  from  the  piercing  wind,  and  she  lingered  for  a 
moment,  her  golden  hair  flying  in  the  blast ;  her  placid 
blue  eyes  and  superficial  smile  underwent  no  change 
when  the  old  woman  turned  away,  baffled  and  hopeless 
and  stricken. 

"  I  'lowed  my  son  war  dead,"  she  said  to  the  cluster 
of  gossips  who  had  assisted  at  the  colloquy.  She  shook 
her  head  as  she  leaned  upon  her  stick,  and  hobbled 
down  across  the  frozen  ruts  of  the  road  toward  the 
wagon.  "  I  'lowed  my  son  war  dead,  an'  I  mourned 
him.  But  I  said  the  words  of  a  fool,  for  he  war  alive  ; 
the  best  part  of  him,  his  good  name,  war  lef  ter  me. 
An'  now  he  air  beset,  an'  druv,  an'  run  down  ter  death, 
—  fur  ye  air  a-murderin'  of  him  in  takin'  his  good  name. 
Lemme  know,  neighbors,"  —  she  turned,  with  her  hand 
upon  the  wheel,  —  "  when  the  deed  air  fairly  done,  so 
ez  I  kin  gin  myself  ter  mournin'  my  son,  fur  then  he  '11 
be  plumb  dead." 

The  two  dark-browed  brothers  said  never  a  word  ;  the 
slow  oxen  started  ;  the  wagon  moved  creaking  down  the 
road  toward  the  snowy  mountains,  with  their  whitened 
slopes  and  black  trees,  and  gray  shadows. 

The  public  sentiment  excited  in  favor  of  Mink  Lorey 
by  the  developments  during  his  trial,  and  which  had 
expressed  itself  in  the  riot  and  attempt  at  a  rescue,  had 
sustained  a  rebuff  consequent  upon  his  assault  on  Judge 
Gwinnan.  Nevertheless,  it  is  difficult  to  nullify  a  pop- 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  313 

ular  prepossession,  and  the  discovery  that  the  young 
mountaineer  had  been  the  victim  of  the  machinations  of 
the  true  criminal,  that  he  had  been  placed  in  jeopardy, 
had  suffered  many  months'  imprisonment,  had  still  longer 
duress  in  prospect,  served  to  justify  him  in  some  sort, 
and  reinstated  him  in  the  feelings  of  the  people,  never 
very  logical.  All  the  details  of  the  trial  were  canvassed 
anew  with  reviviscent  interest.  Now  that  the  veil  of 
mystery  was  torn  from  it,  there  seemed  still  other  incul- 
pations involved.  It  would  appear  to  imply  some  gross 
negligence,  some  intentional  spite,  some  grotesque  per- 
version of  justice,  that  the  criminal  should  have  been 
one  of  the  jury  impaneled  to  try  an  innocent  man.  The 
fact  itself  was  shocking.  It  was  significant  that  only 
through  accident  had  it  come  to  light,  and  it  augured 
grievous  insecurity  of  liberty,  life  and  property. 

Mr.  Harshaw,  who  had  returned  to  Shaftesville  tfpon 
the  adjournment,  for  a  few  days,  of  the  Legislature,  was 
not  slow  to  note  the  direction  and  progress  of  popular 
favor*  In  the  state  of  his  feelings  toward  Gwinnan,  he 
had  no  great  impulse  to  combat  the  position  taken  by  the 
unlearned  that  it  was  a  grave  dereliction  on  the  part  of 
the  court  that  Pete  Rood  had  been  admitted  to  the  panel. 
Why  should  he  expound  the  theory  of  judicial  challenges, 
the  conclusiveness  of  the  voir  dire,  in  instances  of  gen- 
eral eligibility  ?  He  truly  believed  that  in  the  incarcera- 
tion of  the  jury  Gwinnan  had  sacrificed  the  interests  of 
the  defense  and  a  favorable  verdict,  and  as  he  felt  much 
reminiscent  interest  in  the  details  of  his  cases,  he  could 
listen  with  all  the  relish  of  mental  affirmation  to  the  de- 
nunciations of  the  stranger  judge,  who  was  often  pro- 
fanely apostrophized  and  warned  to  show  his  head  no 
more  in  Cherokee  County. 

"  Somebody  besides  Mink  Lorey  '11  try  ter  beat  some 
sense  inter  it,  ef  he  do,"  said  Bylor.  The  bitterness  of 
the  affront  offered  to  the  jury  by  their  imprisonment  had 
grown  more  poignant  as  time  went  on,  for  while  the 
general  excitement  had  gradually  subsided,  the  fact  re- 
mained. Not  one  of  the  unlucky  panel,  venturing  from 


314  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

time  to  time  into  town  with  peltry,  or  game,  or  produce 
for  sale,  could  escape  the  gibes  and  laughter  of  retrospec- 
tive ridicule.  The  dignity  of  the  interests  involved  had 
ceased  to  be  a  shield  to  them.  Even  the  acrimony  excited 
by  their  failure  to  agree  had  yielded  to  light  sarcasm  and 
jocose  scorn, — not  ill-natured,  perhaps,  but  sufficiently 
nettling  to  proud  and  sensitive  men  whom  accident  had 
succeeded  in  immuring  behind  the  bars.  Everywhere 
the  subject  lurked  in  ambuscade,  —  in  the  stores,  at  the 
tavern,  on  the  streets.  The  jailer  was  the  most  hospi- 
table man  alive.  "  When  '11  ye  kem  an'  take  pot-luck 
agin,  gentlemen  ? "  he  would  hail  them  in  chance  en- 
counters. "  My  door  air  easy  ter  open  — from  the  out- 
side." Or  he  would  call  out,  with  a  roguish  tw*inkle  in  his 
brown  eyes.  "  How  's  'rithmetic  up  in  the  cove  ?  "  in 
allusion  to  the  unlucky  thirteen  on  the  panel.  It  seemed 
to  them  that  humiliation  was  their  portion,  and  the  festive 
and  gala  occasion  known  as  "  goin'  ter  town,"  which  had 
hitherto  been  so  replete  with  excitement  and  interest,  and 
was  in  the  nature  of  a  tour  and  a  recompense  of  toil,  had 
resolved  itself  into  a  series  of  mortifications. 

Harshaw's  law-office  proved  in  some  sort  a  refuge  to  the 
coterie,  as  it  had  always  been  more  or  less  a  resort.  It 
had  some  of  the  functions  of  a  club-house,  and  its  fre- 
quenters felt  hardly  less  at  home  than  its  proprietor. 
He  was  a  man  difficult  to  be  taken  amiss  by  his  country 
friends.  He  had  a  sonorous,  hearty  greeting  for  whoever 
came.  If  he  were  at  work,  half  a  dozen  sprawling  fellows 
talking  about  his  fireside  were  no  hindrance  to  the  flow 
of  his  thought,  the  scratch  of  his  pen,  or  the  chase  of  some 
elusive  bit  of  legal  game  through  the  pages  of  a  law-book. 
More  often  he  bore  a  part  in  the  conversation.  The  bare 
floor  defied  the  red  clay  mire  that  came  in  with  the  heavy 
boots  ;  the  broken  bricks  in  the  hearth  were  not  more  un- 
sightly in  his  eyes  for  the  stains  of  tobacco  juice.  The 
high  mantelpiece  was  ornamented  by  a  box  of  tobacco,  a 
can  of  kerosene,  and  an  untrimmed  lamp  that  asserted  its 
presence  in  unctuous  odors.  There  were  some  of  the 
heavy  books  of  his  profession  in  a  case,  and  many  more 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  315 

lying  in  piles  on  the  floor,  near  the  walls,  defenseless 
against  the  borrower.  There  was  a  window  on  one  side 
of  the  office,  and  another  opening  upon  the  street.  At 
this  a  face  was  often  applied,  with  a  pair  of  hands  held 
above  the  eyes  to  shut  out  the  light,  that  the  passer-by 
might  scan  the  interior,  perchance  to  see  if  some  one 
sought  were  within ;  perchance  merely  to  regale  an  idle 
curiosity.  The  unique  proceeding  occasioned  no  com- 
ment and  gave  no  offense.  An  open  door  showed  an  in- 
ner apartment,  where  consultations  were  held  when  too  im- 
portant for  the  ear  of  the  indiscriminate  groups  in  the 
main  office,  and  where  there  was  a  lounge,  on  which  he 
slept  during  court  week,  or  when  political  business  was  too 
brisk  to  admit  of  his  driving  out  to  his  home  on  his 
farm,  some  miles  from  the  town. 

"  Well,"  said  Harshaw,  tilting  his  chair  back  upon  its 
hind  legs  until  it  creaked  and  quaked  with  the  weight, 
and  clasping  both  hands  behind  his  yellow  head,  "  I 
wonder  you  ain't  willing  for  Gwinnan  to  be  a  fool,  con- 
sidering what  Mink  got  for  beating  his  skull  into  a  differ- 
ent shape." 

The  county  boasted  no  weekly  newspaper,  and  without 
it  the  news  was  a  laggard.  Ben  Doaks  looked  up  with 
interest ;  Bylor  paused  expectant.  Jerry  Price,  too,  was 
present,  for  there  was  an  unusual  number  from  the  coves 
in  town  —  this  was  county  court  week,  and  the  crowd 
assembled  offered  special  facilities  for  trading  stock  and 
small  commodities. 

The  hickory  logs  crackled  on  the  hearth  above  the 
gleaming  coals,  and  the  white  and  yellow  flames  were 
broadly  flaring ;  great  beds  of  gray  ashes  lay  beneath, 
for  they  were  seldom  removed  ;  the  murmurous  monotone 
of  the  fire  filled  the  pause. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Harshaw,  taking  his  pipe  from  his  lips 
and  knocking  the  ashes  from  the  bowl,  "  Mink  got  a  sen- 
tence for  twenty  years  in  the  penitentiary  for  assault 
with  intent  to  commit  murder." 

There  was  dead  silence.  The  clay  pipe  that  Jerry 
Price  was  smoking  fell  from  his  hands  unheeded,  and 


316  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

broke  into  fragments  on  the  hearth.  This  knowledge 
affected  the  group  more  than  the  news  of  Mink's  death 
might  have  done.  That  at  least  was  uncertain.  The 
mind  flags  and  fails  to  follow  in  the  journey  to  the  un- 
known the  spirit  that  has  quitted  the  familiar  flesh,  —  the 
entity  for  which  it  has  merely  a  name,  an  impression,  an 
illusion  of  acquaintance.  But  this  sordid,  definite  fact, 
this  measure  of  desolation  bounded  by  four  walls,  this 
hopeless  rage,  this  mental  revulsion  from  ignominy,  all 
were  of  mortal  experience  and  easily  imagined. 

uYes,  sir,"  resumed  Harshaw,  his  florid  face  grave 
but  firm.  He  had  the  air  of  a  man  whose  feelings  have 
been  schooled  to  calmness,  but  who  protests  against  a 
fact.  "•  I  did  what  I  could  for  Mink.  I  could  n't  de- 
fend him  myself,  —  could  n't  leave  the  interests  of  my 
constituents  in  the  House  for  the  sake  of  an  individual ; 
but  I  put  the  case  in  Jerome  Maupert's  hands.  Maupert 
could  n't  help  it.  Mink  was  locking  the  door  of  the  state 
prison  and  double-locking  it  every  time  he  lifted  his  hand 
to  strike  Gwinnan.  A  judge,  you  know,"  —  he  rolled 
his  eyes  significantly  at  the  group,  —  "  a  judge  is  a  mighty 
big  man,  and  Mink  is  just  a  poor  mountain  boy." 

He  stuck  his  pipe  into  his  mouth  again,  and  vigorously 
puffed  it  into  a  glow. 

"  The  crowd  in  court  cheered  when  the  jury  gave  their 
verdict,"  he  said. 

The  group  looked  at  each  other  with  quick,  offended 
glances  ;  then  lapsed  into  gazing  at  the  fire  and  contem- 
plating the  circumstances. 

"  'Pears  like  ez  nobody  kin  git  even  with  Gwinnan 
right  handy,"  said  Bylor.  "  Ef  't  war  n't  fur  makin' 
bad  wuss  fur  Mink,  I  'd  wisht  ez  he  hed  killed  him." 

"  Shucks  !  "  said  Harshaw  scornfully.  "  Gwinnan 
thinks  he  's  mighty  popular  with  the  people.  He  's  always 
doing  the  humbugging  and  bamboozling  dodge.  Just  be- 
fore 1  left  Glaston  the  attorney-general  —  Kenbigh,  you 
know  —  showed  me  a  letter  from  Judge  Gwinnan  asking 
him  to  take  no  notice  of  Mink's  assault,  as  he  was  n't  will- 
ing to  prosecute." 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  317 

He  brought  his  chair  down  with  a  thump  on  its  fore- 
legs, and  looked  about  the  circle,  his  roseate  plump  face 
full  of  bantering  sarcasm. 

"  What  war  his  notion  'fur  that  ?  "  demanded  Doaks, 
slowly  possessing  himself  of  the  facts. 

"  To  impose  on  the  people  —  so  good  —  so  lenient  "  — 

"  Mighty  lenient,  sure  !  "  interpolated  Bylor.  He  rubbed 
his  wrist  mechanically  ;  he  never  was  quite  sure  that  he 
had  not  been  shackled. 

u  Letter  dated  just  about  two  weeks  after  Mink  was 
sentenced,"  Harshaw  sneered. 

"  Waal,  who  war  the  prosecutor,  then  ?  "  demanded 
Jerry  Price,  at  a  loss. 

"  Why,  of  course  they  did  n't  wait  for  a  prosecutor. 
Mink  was  tried  on  a  presentment  by  the  grand  jury  ;  and 
as  the  criminal  court  came  on  right  straight,  Kenbigh  just 
hurried  him  through.  He  's  a  regular  blood-hound,  Ken- 
bigh is." 

There  was  a  silence  for  a  few  moments.  Several  of 
the  sticks  of  wood  had  burned  in  two  and  fallen  apart, 
and  were  sending  up  dull  columns  of  smoke,  some  of 
which  puffed  into  the  room,  —  an  old  trick  of  the  chim- 
ney's, if  the  testimony  of  the  blackened  ceiling  be  ad- 
mitted. 

"  As  if,"  cried  Harshaw,  suddenly  uncrossing  and 
crossing  his  legs,  reversing  their  position,  "  Gwinnan,  of 
all  the  men  in  the  world,  would  n't  know  and  think  of 
that  !  But  Kenbigh  seemed  to  take  it  all  in,  —  seemed 
to  think  't  was  Gwinnan's  modesty.  He  showed  me  the 
answer  he  wrote  to  the  judge."  Harshaw  cast  up  his  eyes 
meditatively  to  the  ceiling,  as  if  seeking  to  recall  the 
words.  "  He  begged  to  express  his  admiration  of  Judge 
Gwinnan's  modesty  in  thinking  that  so  serious  an  injury 
to  one  of  the  most  brilliant  ornaments  of  the  State  judi- 
ciary could  fail  to  be  summarily  punished,  or  would  need 
his  personal  interposition  as  prosecutor." 

They  all  listened  with  an  absent  air,  as  if  the  refusal 
to  hear  the  compliments  nullified  them. 

Harshaw  gave  a  short,  satirical  laugh,  showing  his 
strong  white  teeth. 


318  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  I  wisht  ter  Gawd  that  thar  Gvvinnan  wanted  ter  go 
ter  Congress,  or  sech,  ez  would  fling  him  'fore  the  vote 
o'  Cher'kee  County,  —  it  be  in  the  same  congressional 
deestric'  whar  he  hails  from,  —  I  'd  show  him,"  said 
Bylor,  shaking  his  head  with  the  savagery  of  suppositi- 
tious revenge,  and  in  the  full  delusion  of  unbridled 
power  characteristic  of  the  free  and  independent  Amer- 
ican unit.  "/'c£  show  him." 

"  I  reckon  everybody  don't  feel  like  we-uns  do,"  said 
Jerry  Price,  who,  although  he  smarted  under  the  un- 
merited disgrace  he  had  experienced  at  the  hands  of 
Gwinnan,  had  submitted  to  it  as  a  judicial  necessity.  Its 
rankling  pangs  were  manifested  only  when,  chancing  to 
meet  the  foreman,  Jerry  would  ask,  in  a  manner  charged 
with  interest  and  an  affectation  of  mystery,  whether  he 
had  had  his  tongue  measured  yet,  and  how  many  joints 
it  had  been  ascertained  to  have. 

"  They  're  a  little  more  disgruntled  over  in  Kildeer 
than  you  are  here,"  Harshaw  declared.  "  You  'd  allow 
the  court-room  was  a  distric'  school,  if  you  could  know 
the  way  he  domineers  over  there.  I  always  look  to  see 
the  learned  counsel  put  his  finger  in  his  mouth  and 
whine  when  Gwinnan  gets  on  the  rampage." 

"  Why,  look-a-hyar,  Mr.  Harshaw,"  demanded  Bylor, 
"do  you-uns  call  this  a  free  country?  Ain't  thar  no 
way  o'  stoppin'  him  off  ?  Goin'  ter  hev  five  mo'  years 
o'  him  on  the  bench  ?  " 

"  He  "11  be  impeached  some  day,  mark  my  words," 
Harshaw  declared ;  and  then  he  fell  to  eying  the  smok- 
ing fire  with  slow,  sullen,  vengeful  speculation,  and  for 
the  rest  of  the  day  he  was  not  such  jovial  company  as 
his  general  repute  for  good-fellowship  might  promise. 

In  this  interval  of  leisure  which  the  recess  afforded 
him,  both  as  legislator  and  lawyer,  Harshaw  devoted 
himself  to  furthering  his  political  prospects  and  strength- 
ening his  hold  upon  the  predilections  of  the  people.  He 
was  a  man  of  ihany  mental  and  moral  phases :  he  sang 
loud  and  long  at  the  revival  at  the  cross-roads  church ; 
he  attended  rural  merry-makings ;  he  connived  at  having 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  319 

his  own  house  "  stormed  "  by  a  surprise  party,  the  pre- 
parations being  profuse  and  exhilarating,  and  the  flavor 
of  his  hospitality  was  not  impaired  by  his  shaking  hands 
with  his  guests,  and  violently  promising  to  vote  for  them 
at  the  next  election,  each  enlightened  and  independent 
citizen  being  himself  not  quite  clear  as  to  who  was  the 
prospective  candidate :  but  the  whole  episode  faded  from 
recollection  with  the  evening,  mingling  with  the  vain 
phantasmagoria  of  wild  elation,  and  subsequent  drowsi- 
ness, and  retributive  headache,  and  physical  repentance. 
He  went  on  a  camp  hunt  with  a  party  of  roaring  blades. 
The  weather  in  the  changeful  Southern  winter  had  turned 
singularly  fine  and  dry  ;  the  air  had  all  the  crisp  buoy- 
ancy of  autumn  and  all  the  freshness  of  spring  ;  fires 
drowsed  on  hearths  ;  doors  stood  ajar;  the  sunshine  was 
pervasive,  warm,  languorous,  imbued  with  pensive  vernal 
illusions.  One  might  wonder  to  see  the  silent  sere  grass  ; 
were  there  indeed  no  whirring  songs,  no  skittering  points 
of  light,  hovering  in  mazy  tangles,  and  telling  the  joy  that 
existence  might  prove  to  the  tiniest  insect  life  ?  Birds  ? 
The  trees  were  empty,  but  one  must  look  to  make  sure  : 
only  the  rising  quail  from  the  clumps  of  withered  weeds ; 
only  the  infrequent  cry  of  the  wild  turkey  down  the 
bare,  sunny  vistas  of  the  woods.  The  shadows  of  the 
deciduous  trees  were  spare  and  linear,  distinctly  traced 
on  the  brown  ground  or  upon  the  gray  rock.  In  these 
fine  curves  and  strokes  of  dendritic  scripture  a  graceful 
sylvan  idyl  might  perchance  be  deciphered  by  the  curi- 
ous. But  the  dense  masses  of  laurel  and  the  darkling 
company  of  pines  cloaked  themselves  in  their  encompass- 
ing gloom,  in  these  bright  days  as  ever,  and  in  their 
shade  the  dank  smell  and  the  depressing  chill  attested 
the  winter.  Vague  shimmers  hung  about  the  mountains, 
blue  in  the  distance,  garnet  and  brown  and  black  close  at 
hand.  Tho  terrible  heights  and  unexplored  depths,  the 
vast,  sheer,  precipitous  descents,  the  titanic  cliffs,  the 
breadth,  the  muscle,  the  tremendous  velocity  of  the  tor- 
rents hurling  down  the  gorges,  gave  august  impressions 
of  space  unknown  to  the  redundant  richness  of  the  sum- 


320  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

mer  woods.  There  were  vistas  of  incomparable  ampli- 
tude, as  still,  with  the  somnolent  sunshine  and  the  sparse 
shadow,  as  if  they  were  some  luminous  effect  on  a  can- 
vas, painted  in  dark  and  light  browns,  graduated  through 
the  tints  of  the  sere  leaf  in  ascendant  transition  to  the 
pale  gold  of  the  sunbeams ;  affording,  despite  the  pau- 
city of  detail,  an  ecstasy  to  the  sense  of  color. 

It  was  a  moment  of  preeminent  consequence  to  Har- 
shaw  one  day,  when  far  up  a  stately  avenue  a  deer  ap- 
peared with  the  suddenness  of  an  illusion,  yet  giving  so 
complete  a  realization  of  its  presence  that  the  very  full- 
ness and  splendor  of  its  surprised  eyes  left  their  impres- 
sion. Then,  as  in  some  jugglery  of  the  senses,  the  ani- 
mal with  consummate  grace  and  lightness,  vanished, 
bounding  through  the  laurel. 

The  wind  was  adverse  and  the  hounds  did  not  readily 
catch  the  scent.  A  few  tentative,  melancholy  yelps  of 
uncertainty  arose  ;  then  a  deep,  musical,  bell-like  bay, 
another,  and  the  pack  opened  with  a  great  swelling,  os- 
cillating cry,  that  the  mountains  echoed  as  with  a  thou- 
sand voices,  and  in  a  vast  compass  of  tone.  The 
mounted  men,  hallooing  to  one  another,  dashed  off  in 
different  directions,  making  through  the  woods  towards 
various  "  stands  "  which  the  deer  might  be  expected  to 
pass.  Now  and  then  the  horn  sounded  to  recall  the 
stragglers,  —  inexpressibly  stirring  tones,  launched  from 
crag  to  crag,  from  height  to  height ;  far-away  ravines 
repeated  the  summons  with  a  fine  and  delicate  mystery 
of  resonance,  rendered  elusive  and  idealized,  till  one 
might  believe  that  never  yet  did  such  sound  waves  float 
from  the  prosaic  cow-horn  of  the  mountaineer. 

Harshaw's  pursuits  had  not  been  those  of  a  Nimrod, 
and  although  a  good  horseman  and  a  fair  marksman,  he 
had  found  himself  at  a  grievous  disadvantage  with  others 
of  the  party  who  were  mountaineers  and  crack  shots. 
Stimulated  by  rivalry,  they  had  achieved  prodigies  in 
instances  of  quickness  of  sight  and  unerring  aim  in  un- 
propitious,  almost  impossible  circumstances.  They  had 
already  had  some  good  sport,  in  which  he  had  acquitted 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  321 

himself  creditably  enough  ;  but  his  inexperience  and  igno- 
rance of  the  topography  of  the  country  had  given  him 
some  occasion  to  perceive  that  without  more  familiarity 
with  the  localities  he  could  not  fully  enjoy  a  camp  hunt. 
He  was  not  surprised  when,  becoming  involved  in  an  al- 
most impenetrable  tangle  of  the  laurel,  he  lost  his  com- 
panions, who  got  over  the  broken  ground  with  an  amaz- 
ing swiftness,  divination  of  direction,  and  quickness  of 
resource.  He  drew  rein  upon  emerging,  and  listened  to 
the  baying  hounds :  now  loud,  now  faint  and  far  away  ; 
now  sharftty  yelping  for  the  lost  trail,  and  again  lifting 
the  exultant,  bell-like  cry  of  bated  triumph.  He  de- 
spaired of  rejoining  his  friends  till  the  deer  was  lost  or 
killed,  and,  remembering  the  pluck  of  the  personnel  of 
the  diversion,  of  the  deer,  the  hounds,  and  the  mountain- 
eers, he  reflected  that  this  result  might  not  soon  ensue. 

The  echoes  infinitely  confused  the  sounds,  giving  no 
reliable  suggestion  of  the  direction  which  the  hunt  was 
taking.  He  pushed  on  for  a  time  —  a  long  time,  his 
watch  told  him  —  in  the  complete  silence  of  the  wintry 
woods.  He  began  to  experience  a  dull  growing  appre- 
hensiveness.  He  had  no  faint  approximative  conjecture 
concerning  the  locality ;  there  was  no  path,  not  even  a 
herders'  trail.  He  could  himself  establish  no  landmark 
by  which  he  might  be  guided.  There  was  a  lavish  re- 
petitiousness^  in  the  scene  :  grand  as  it  might  be  with 
scarred  cliffs  and  sudden  chasms  and  stupendous  trees, 
it  was  presented  anew  with  prolific  magnificence  forty 
yards  further,  and  ride  as  he  might  he  seemed  to  make 
no  progress.  As  time  passed,  there  recurred  to  his  recol- 
lection instances  —  rare,  it  is  true,  but  as  uninviting  to 
the  imagination  as  infrequent  —  of  men  who  have  been 
lost  in  these  fastnesses,  trained  woodsmen,  herders,  the 
familiars  of  the  wild  nature  into  whose  penetralia  even 
they  had  ventured  too  far.  A  handful  of  bleaching 
bones  might  tell  the  story,  or  perhaps  the  mysterious 
disappearance  would  be  explained  by  much  circling  of 
birds  of  prey.  Mr.  Harshaw  felt  a  sudden  violent  ap- 
preciation of  the  methods  and  interests  and  affluent 


322  7^  THE   CLOUDS. 

attractiveness  of  the  civilized  world.  He  could  not  suffi- 
ciently condemn  his  folly  in  venturing  out  of  its  beaten 
track  ;  in  leaving,  even  for  a  space,  the  things  he  loved 
for  the  things  he  cared  not  for.  The  scene  was  inex- 
pressibly repugnant  to  him ;  the  woods  closed  him  in  so 
frowningly ;  his  mind  recoiled  from  the  stern,  Gorgon- 
like  faces  of  the  crags  on  every  hand.  The  wintry  sun- 
light was  reddening  ;  he  could  see  only  the  zenith  through 
the  dense  forest,  and  upon  its  limited  section  were  inter- 
posed many  interlacing  outlines  of  the  bare  boughs; 
nevertheless,  he  was  aware  that  the  sky  was-  clouding. 
The  wind  did  not  stir  ;  the  woods  were  appallingly  still ; 
there  was  no  sound  of  horn  or  hounds ;  the  chase  had 
gone  like  a  phantom  hunt,  —  suddenly  evoked,  as  sud- 
denly disappearing. 


xxrn. 

As  Harsliaw  paused  to  let  his  mare  breathe,  a:i  abrupt 
sound  smote  his  ear  ;  he  lifted  his  head  to  listen.  It  was 
the  fitful  clank  of  a  cow-bell  —  and  again  ;  nearer  than 
he  had  thought  at  first.  He  experienced  infinite  relief. 
The  prosaic  jangling  had  a  welcome  significance.  It 
intimated  the  vicinity  of  some  dwelling-place,  for  at  this 
season  the  cattle  are  not  at  large  in  the  withered  pas- 
turage of  the  mountain.  He  heard  the  bushes  cracking 
at  a  little  distance  ;  he  pressed  his  reluctant  mare  in  that 
direction,  through  a  briery  tangle,  over  the  trunks  of 
fallen  trees,  pausing  now  and  then  to  listen  to  the  sound. 
Suddenly  there  was  a  great  thwack;  a  thick  human 
tongue  stammered  a  curse.  There  was  something  strange 
and  repellent  and  unnatural  in  the  mouthing  tones.  The 
next  moment  he  understood.  The  laurel  gave  way  into 
the  opon  aisles  of  the  brown  woods ;  a  red  suffusion  of 
the  sunset  lingered  among  the  dark  boles  on  the  high 
slopes,  contending  with,  rather  than  illuminating,  the 
lucent  yellow  tints  on  the  dead  leaves.  A  red  cow 
shambled  along  at  a  clumsy  run  amidst  the  pervasive 
duskiness,  that  was  rather  felt  than  seen ;  and  driving 
her  with  a  long  hickory  sprout  was  a  tall  mountain  boy, 
who  turned  his  head  at  the  sound  of  the  hoofs  behind 
him,  showing  under  the  bent  and  drooping  brim  of  an 
old  white  hat  a  pale  and  flabby  face,  on  which  pitiless 
nature  had  fixed  the  stamp  of  denied  intelligence.  He 
gazed,  with  open  mouth  and  starting  eyes,  at  the  horse- 
man ;  then,  regardless  of  Harshaw's  friendly  hail,  he 
dropped  his  stick,  and  with  a  strange,  unearthly  howl  he 
fled  along  the  woodland  ways  like  a  frightened  deer. 
He  plunged  into  the  laurel,  and  was  out  of  sight  in  a 
moment.  • 

Harshaw  began  to  drive  the  cow  along,  hoping  she 


324  /JV  THE  CLOUDS. 

would  take  the  familiar  barn-yard  way.  He  could  hardly 
gauge  his  relief  when,  almost  immediately,  he  saw  before 
him  a  rail-fence ;  and  yet  he  had  an  accession  of  irrita- 
tion because  of  the  folly,  the  futility,  of  the  whole  mishap. 
His  consciousness  was  so  schooled  to  the  exactions  of 
political  life  that  he  experienced  a  sort  of  grotesque 
shame  as  if  the  misadventure  were  already  added  to 
the  capital  of  a  political  opponent  expert  in  the  art  of 
ridicule. 

No  one  was  visible  in  the  little  clearing.  Smoke, 
however,  was  curling  briskly  from  the  chimney  of  a  log 
hut ;  there  was  a  barn  of  poles  hard  by,  evidently  well 
filled.  Harshaw  hallooed,  with  no  response  save  that 
his  hearty  voice  roused  the  dogs;  they  came  trooping 
from  under  the  house  and  from  out  of  it,  sharply  bark- 
ing, although  two  or  three,  still  drowsy,  paused  to  stretch 
themselves  to  a  surprising  length  and  to  yawn  with  a 
vast  dental  display.  The  cow  went  in  by  the  way,  doubt- 
less, that  she  had  come  out,  stepping  over  the  fence, 
where  a  number  of  rails  had  been  thrown  off.  Harshaw, 
thinking  it  as  well  to  encounter  the  dogs  within  the 
inclosure  as  without,  followed  her  example,  the  mare 
resisting  slightly,  and  stumbling  over  those  of  the  rails 
that  lay  upon  the  ground.  He  saw  that  his  approach 
had  occasioned  a  commotion  within  the  house ;  there 
was  a  vague  flutter  of  skirts  elusively  appearing  and  dis- 
appearing. Across  the  doorway,  low  down,  were  nailed 
wooden  slats,  doubtless  to  restrain  the  excursiveness  of  a 
small  child,  who  suddenly  thrust  his  head  over  them,  and 
was  instantly  snatched  back  by  some  invisible  hand. 

Nevertheless,  the  inhabitants  were  presently  induced 
to  hold  a  parley,  perhaps  because  of  Harshaw's  manifest 
determination  to  force  an  entrance,  despite  the  dogs  that 
leaped  and  yelped  about  his  stirrup  irons,  their  vocal 
efforts  more  shrilly  keyed  as  his  whip  descended  among 
them ;  for  although  he  held  his  revolver  cocked,  he  was 
too  shrewd  a  politician  to  present  its  muzzle  to  a  moun- 
taineer's dog  save  in  the  direst  emergency.  A  woman 
suddenly  appeared  at  the  door.  She  looked  at  him  with 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  325 

so  keen  and  doubtful  a  gaze,  with  a  gravity  so  forbidding, 
a  silence  so  significant,  that,  accustomed  as  he  was  to  the 
hospitable  greeting  and  smile  of  welcome  that  graces  the 
threshold  of  every  home  of  the  region,  however  humble, 
he  lost  for  the  moment  his  ready  assurance.  When  he 
told  her  of  his  plight,  she  received  the  statement  with 
the  chilling  silence  of  incredulity.  Nevertheless,  upon 
his  request  for  shelter  for  the  night  and  a  guide  the  next 
morning,  she  did  not  refuse,  as  he  had  feared,  but  told 
him  in  a  spiritless  way  to  "  'light  and  hitch,"  and  that 
the  boy  would  look  after  his  horse.  He  strode  up  to 
the  house,  the  dogs,  suddenly  all  very  friendly,  at  his 
heels,  and  stepped  over  the  barricade  that  restrained  the 
adventurous  juvenile  who  was  now  hanging  upon  it,  look- 
ing with  eager  interest  at  the  world  of  the  door-yard, 
which  was  a  very  wide  world  to  him.  He  followed  Har- 
shaw  to  his  seat  by  the  fire,  eying  with  great  persistence 
his  boots  and  his  spurs.  The  latter  exerted  upon  him 
special  fascinations,  and  he  presently  stooped  down  and 
applied  a  small  inquisitive  finger  to  the  rowel.  The  in- 
terior was  not  unlike  the  other  homes  of  the  region,  — 
two  high  beds,  a  ladder  ascending  to  a  chamber  in  the 
roof,  a  rude  table,  a  spinning-wheel,  at  which  a  gaunt, 
half -grown  girl  was  working  as  industriously  as  if  oblivi- 
ous of  the  stranger's  presence.  The  woman  sat  with  her 
arms  folded,  her  eyes  on  the  fire,  pondering  deeply.  A 
young  man  came  to  the  back  door,  glanced  in,  and 
turned  away. 

When  the  woman  fixed  her  grave,  wide,  prominent 
eyes  upon  Harshaw,  there  was  something  in  their  ex- 
pression so  unnerving  that  his  refuge  seemed  hardly 
more  comfortable  than  the  savage  wilderness  without. 
But  he  said  bluffly  to  himself  that  he  had  not  stumped 
Kildeer  and  Cherokee  for  nothing ;  he  rallied  his  tradi- 
tions as  a  politician.  Surely,  he  reflected,  he  who  could 
so  beguile  other  men's  adherents  to  vote  for  him  could 
win  his  way  to  a  simple  woman's  friendship,  if  he  tried. 

He  looked  at  the  child  and  smiled,  and  said  that  the 
boy  was  "  mighty  peart."  He  dropped  into  the  ver- 


326  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

nacular  as  a  conscious  concession  to  the  habits  of  the 
"  plain  people." 

The  woman's  fierce  face  was  transfigured.  "  That 's  a 
true  word,  stranger,"  she  said,  beamingly.  "  An'  Philetus 
ain't  three  year  old  yit,  air  he,  Sereny  ?  " 

The  girl  in  an  abrupt,  piping  way  confirmed  the 
marvel,  and  Harshaw  looked  again  at  Philetus,  who  had 
no  sort  of  hesitancy  in  seeking  to  take  off  the  spurs  and 
convert  them  to  his  own  use. 

His  mother  went  on  :  "  Philetus,  though,  ain't  nigh  so 
pretty  ez  three  others  I  hed  ez  died.  Yes,  sir,  we-uns  lived 
up  higher  than  this,  on  a  mounting  over  yander  thar." 

"  You  have  n't  been  living  here  long  ?  "  said  Har- 
shaw, merely  by  way  of  making  talk. 

The  woman  instantly  resumed  her  stony,  impassive 
manner.  "  'T  ain't  long  nor  short  by  some  folkses' 
medjure,"  she  said  equivocally.  She  looked  watchfully 
at  him  from  time  to  time.  An  old  gray  cat  that  sat  on 
the  warm  stones  in  the  corner  of  the  hearth,  purring, 
and  feigning  to  lift  now  one  of  her  fore  paws  and  then 
the  other,  eyed  him  with  a  round,  yellow,  somnolent 
stare,  as  if  she  too  had  a  charge  to  keep  him  under  sur- 
veillance. She  got  up  suddenly,  arching  her  back,  to 
affectionately  rub  against  the  great  booted  feet  of  the 
idiot,  who  came  and  leaned  on  the  chimney  and  gazed 
solemnly  at  the  stranger.  He  was  overgrown  and  over- 
fat,  and  had  a  big,  puffy,  important  face  and  a  cavalier, 
arrogant  manner. 

"  Don'  wanter,"  he  said,  in  his  thick,  mouthing  utter- 
ance, as  the  woman,  once  more  seeming  flustered  and 
anxious,  told  him  to  take  the  basket  and  go  out  to  the 
wood  pile  and  fill  it  with  chips. 

The  whir  of  the  spinning-wheel  was  suddenly  silent, 
and  the  girl,  who  officiated  as  a  sort  of  echo  of  her 
mother's  words,  a  reflection  of  her  actions,  came  and 
emptied  the  basket  of  the  few  bits  of  bark  within  it,  and 
handed  it  to  him. 

"  G'  way,  Sereny,"  he  said  good-naturedly,  but  de- 
clining the  duty. 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  327 

The  unfathomable  dispensation  of  idiocy,  its  irrecon- 
cilability with  mundane  theories  of  divine  justice  or 
mercy,  its  presentment  at  once  repellent  and  grotesque, 
has  its  morbid  effect  when  confronted  with  sanity.  Har- 
shaw  was  a  man  neither  of  delicate  instincts  nor  of  any 
subtle  endowment,  but  the  contemplation  of  the  great 
vacant  face  grimacing  at  him,  coupled  with  the  singular 
influences  of  his  reception,  required  a  recollection  of  the 
anguished  anxiety  he  had  experienced,  the  sound  of  the 
rising  wind  without,  the  sight  of  the  whirling  dead 
leaves,  the  gathering  gloom  of  the  cloudy  dusk,  to  rec- 
oncile him  to  the  conditions  of  his  refuge. 

"  Well,  my  man,"  he  said,  looking  at  the  boy,  "  what's 
your  name  ?  " 

The  idiot  grinned  importantly.  "  Tad,"  he  stuttered 
thickly,  —  "  Tad  Simpkins.  What 's  yourn  ?  " 

Harshaw  sat  for  a  moment  in  stunned  surprise.  Then 
all  the  discomforts  of  the  situation  vanished  before  the 
triumphs  of  this  discovery.  This  —  this  great,  well-fed, 
hearty  creature,  the  forlorn,  maltreated  idiot  depicted 
by  the  evidence  in  Mink  Lorey's  trial ;  this,  the  pitiable 
boy  drowned  in  the  mill  like  a  rat  in  a  trap;  this,  the 
elusive  spectre  of  the  attorney-general's  science !  The 
next  moment  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  must  use  special 
caution  here  ;  the  motives  that  had  led  these  people  to 
harbor  the  idiot,  if  not  to  conceal  him,  were  suspicious, 
and  favored  his  theory  in  the  trial  —  which  he  had 
adopted  more  from  the  poverty  of  his  resources  than  a 
full  credulity  —  that  the  retirement  of  the  boy  reputed 
drowned  was  prompted  by  a  deep-seated  enmity  to  Mink 
Lorey. 

He  turned  to  the  woman,  all  his  normal  faculties  on 
the  abrt. 

"  Well,  that 's  a  fact,  Mrs.  Simpkins  ;  your  son  ain't 
plumb  bright,  —  I  can  see  that,  —  but  he  's  right  there. 
I  ought  to  tell  you  my  name." 

"Mine  ain't  Simpkins,"  said  the  woman  suddenly, 
responding  quickly  to  his  clever  touch,  "  an'  Tad  thar 
ain't  my  son."  She  was  mixing  corn-meal  batter  for 


328  /^  THE  CLOUDS. 

bread  in  a  wooden  bowl ;  she  stirred  it  energetically  as 
she  went  on  with  a  sort  of  partisan  acrimony  :  "  Mebbe 
he  ain't  bright,  ez  ye  call  it,  but  I  ain't  never  hearn  o' 
Tad  doin'  a  mean  thing  yit,  —  not  ter  the  chill'n,  nor 
dogs,  nor  cats,  nor  nuthin'.  He  may  be  lackin'  in  the 
head,  but  he  ain't  lackin'  in  the  heart ;  thar  's  whar  's 
the  complaint  o'  mos'  folks  ez  ain't  idjits.  I  dunno 
which  air  held  gifted  in  the  sight  o'  the  Lord.  'T  ain't 
in  human  wisdom  ter  say.  Tad  '11  make  a  better  show 
at  the  jedgmint  day  'n  many  folks  ez  'low  they  hev  lied 
thar  senses  through  life." 

"  Ain't  no  idjit,  nuther,"  protested  Tad,  gruffly. 

"  Well,  my  name  's  Harshaw  —  Bob  Harshaw."  The 
guest  leaned  forward,  with  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  look- 
ing steadily  at  her  as  he  talked.  She  held  her  head  on 
one  side,  listening  eagerly,  almost  laboriously,  sedulous 
that  she  should  lose  no  point,  showing  how  sharp  had 
been  her  desire  for  him  to  give  an  account  of  himself. 
As  he  noticed  this,  he  was  more  than  ever  sure  that  the 
household  had  some  cause  to  fear  the  law.  His  vanity 
received  a  slight  shock  in  the  self-evident  fact  that  she 
had  never  before  heard  of  him.  "  I  'm  a  lawyer  from 
Shaftesville.  I  defended  Mink  Lorey  when  he  was 
tried  for  drowning  that  chap." 

"  Flung  me  in  the  water  !  "  exclaimed  Tad  parenthet- 
ically. 

"  I  hearn  'bout  that,"  said  the  woman.  She  had  knelt 
on  the  broad  hearth-stone,  depositing  the  bowl  beside 
her  while  she  made  up  the  pones  in  her  hands,  tossing 
them  from  one  palm  to  the  other,  then  placing  them 
upon  the  hoe  which  smoked  upon  the  hot  live  coals 
drawn  out  from  the  bed  of  the  fire.  "  I  war  glad  the 
rescuers  tuk  him  out,"  she  continued,  "  fur  Tad  ain't 
drownded." 

"  The  rescuers  did  n't  take  him  out,"  said  Harshaw, 
sharply. 

The  woman  looked  up,  surprised ;  her  hand  shook  a 
little  with  the  bread  in  it ;  she  was  evidently  capable  of 
appreciating  the  weight  of  responsibility. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  329 

"  Why,  Lethe  Sayles  told  me  so,"  she  said. 

"  Lethe  Sayles !  "  he  exclaimed,  perplexed.  Her 
name  instantly  recalled  Gwinnan  —  incongruous  associa- 
tion of  ideas  !  —  and  Mink's  persuasion  of  Gwinnan's 
enmity  toward  him  for  her  sake.  Had  she  known  the 
judge  before  ?  he  wondered.  Had  Mink  some  founda- 
tion for  his  jealousy  beyond  the  disasters  of  the  trial  ? 
Somehow,  this  false  representation  to  the  people  who 
knew  that  the  lad  was  not  drowned  had,  he  thought,  an 
undeveloped  significance  in  view  of  that  fact.  Harshaw 
resolved  that  there  should  be  no  question  of  the  substan- 
tiality of  Tad's  apparition  when  the  case  should  come 
up  to  be  tried  anew.  He  forgot  himself  for  the  moment. 
"  I  '11  produce  you  in  open  court,  my  fine  fellow,"  he 
said,  swaggering  to  his  feet  and  striking  the  boy  on  his 
fat  shoulder.  "  That 's  what  I  'm  bound  for !  " 

He  had  naught  in  mind  save  the  details  of  his  case. 
He  regarded  the  incident  only  as  the  symmetrical  justifi- 
cation of  his  conduct  of  the  evidence  and  his  evolution 
of  the  theory  of  the  crime.  He  did  not  pause  to  reflect 
on  its  slight  and  ineffective  value  to  Mink  himself,  to 
whom  an  acquittal  could  only  mean  that  a  few  years 
were  not  to  be  added  to  the  long  term  of  imprison- 
ment which  already  impended  for  him.  He  did  not 
even  notice  that  the  woman  rose  suddenly  from  her 
knees,  went  toward  the  door,  and  beckoned  in  the  burly 
young  fellow  who  had  appeared  on  the  porch  at  inter- 
vals, covertly  surveying  the  scene  within. 

"  Naw,  sir,"  she  exclaimed,  with  an  agitated,  acceler- 
ated method  of  speech  and  a  fierce  eye,  "  ye  won't !  Ye 
ain't  a-goin'  ter  kem  in  hyar  an'  spy  us  out  an'  perduce 
us  in  court,  fur  yer  profit  an'  our  destruction."  Harshaw 
turned  and  gazed  at  her,  with  a  flushing,  indignant  face. 
The  young  man  had  his  rifle  in  his  hand  ;  she  herself  was 
taking  down  a  gun  which  lay  in  a  rack  above  the  fire- 
place. u  Ye  war  n't  axed  ter  kem  in  hyar,  but  it  be  our 
say-so  ez  ter  when  ye  go  out." 

The  surprise  of  it  overpowered  him  for  a  moment; 
he  stood  blankly  staring  at  them.  The  next,  he  realized 


330  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

that  his  pistols  were  in  the  holster  with  his  saddle,  and 
his  gun  that  he  had  placed  beside  the  door  had  been  re- 
moved. He  was  not,  however,  deficient  in  physical 
courage. 

"  Take  care  how  you  attempt  to  detain  me ! "  he 
blustered. 

She  laughed  in  return,  shrilly,  mirthlessly  ;  as  he 
looked  at  her  he  was  sure  that  she  would  not  hesitate  to 
draw  the  trigger  that  her  long,  lean  fingers,  bedaubed 
with  the  corn-meal  batter,  already  touched. 

The  idiot  put  his  hands  before  his  eyes,  with  a  hoarse, 
wheezing  moan  of  horror  and  remonstrance.  The  girl 
looked  on  with  the  tranquillity  of  sanity. 

Harshaw  could  rely  only  on  the  superiority  of  his 
own  intellectual  endowments. 

"  Why,  look  here,  madam,"  he  said  bluffly,  rallying 
his  wits,  "  what  do  you  want  of  me,  —  to  stay  here  ?  I 
have  got  no  notion  of  going,  I  assure  you ;  not  till  day- 
break, anyhow." 

He  flung  himself  into  his  chair,  and  looked  up  at  her 
with  an  exasperating  composure,  as  if  relegating  to  her 
all  the  jeopardy  of  the  initiative  and  the  prerogatives  of 
action. 

She  quailed  before  this  unexpected  submission.  She 
could  have  had  no  doubts  as  to  her  course  had  he  shown 
fight ;  the  tall  and  subsidiary  young  man  also  wore  an 
air  of  sheepish  defeat.  Harshaw  stifled  his  questions ; 
he  gave  no  sign  of  the  anger  that  seethed  within  him, 
the  haunting  fear  that  would  not  down.  He  stretched 
out  his  booted  legs  to  the  warm  fire,  feeling  in  the  very 
capacity  of  motion,  in  the  endowment  of  sensation,  a 
relief,  an  appreciated  value  in  sheer  life  which  is  the 
common  sequence  of  escape,  and  remembering  that  by 
this  time,  but  for  his  quick  expedient,  he  might  be  in 
case  to  never  move  again.  He  thrust  his  broad  hat  far 
back  on  his  yellow  head,  put  his  hands  into  his  pockets, 
and  looked  in  his  confident  fashion  about  his  surround- 
ings, while  the  woman  lowered  her  weapon,  and  pres- 
ently went  mechanically  about  her  preparations  for  sup- 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  331 

per,  evidently  attended  by  some  lurking  regret  for  her 
precipitancy.  She  looked  askance  at  him  now  and  then, 
and  after  a  time  ventured  upon  a  question. 

"  Ye  say  yer  name  be  Harshaw  ?  "  she  asked. 

"I  said  so,"  Harshaw  replied.  So  alert  were  her 
suspicions  that  she  fancied  significance  in  the  simple 
phrase.  She  exchanged  a  quick  glance  with  the  young 
man,  who  appeared  at  once  lowering  and  beset  with 
doubt. 

Even  Tad  apprehended  the  meaning  in  the  look. 

"  Ye  know  my  name,  'pears  like,  better  'n  yourn,"  he 
grinned,  with  a  guttural,  foolish  laugh. 

As  the  boy  spoke  Harshaw  was  impressed  anew  with 
the  change  in  his  fate ;  the  creature  of  cuffs  and  curses, 
who  had  been  the  very  derision  of  perverse  circum- 
stances, was  a  marvelous  contrast  to  the  well-fed,  fat, 
kindly-tended  lad  who  leered  good  -  humoredly  from 
where  he  lounged  against  the  great  chimney.  Yet  de- 
spite this  attestation  of  benignant  impulses  harbored 
here,  there  was  the  rifle,  which  had  had  such  importu- 
nate concern  for  his  attention,  standing  ready  at  the 
woman's  right  hand. 

"Well,  madam,"  said  the  politician,  "I  have  been 
about  right  smart  in  the  mountains,  and  I  have  partaken 
of  the  cheer  around  many  a  hearth-stone,  but  this  is  the 
first  time  I  have  ever  been  invited  to  look  down  the 
muzzle  of  a  rifle." 

She  winced  visibly  at  this  reflection  upon  her  hospi- 
tality, as  she  knelt  on  the  hearth,  slipping  the  knife  un- 
der the  baking  pones  on  the  hoe,  and  turning  them 
with  a  dexterous  flip. 

"  I  would  n't  have  believed  it,"  continued  Harshaw. 
"  I  have  never  heard  of  anybody  but  law-breakers  giving 
themselves  to  such  practices,  —  moonshiners  and  the 
like." 

The  woman  suddenly  lifted  her  face,  her  dismayed 
jaw  falling  at  the  significant  word.  Harshaw  could  have 
laughed  aloud.  The  simple  little  riddle  was  guessed. 
And  yet  the  situation  was  all  the  graver  for  him.  There 


332  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

was  a  step  outside  ;  the  door  opened  for  only  a  narrow 
space  ;  darkness  had  fallen ;  the  room  was  illumined  by 
the  flaring  flames  darting  up  the  chimney  ;  he  knew 
that  he  was  scrutinized  sharply  from  without,  and  now 
and  then  he  heard  the  sound  of  voices  in  low  conference. 

It  was  well,  doubtless,  that  the  secret  petitions  he 
preferred  to  the  powers  of  the  earth  and  the  air  for  the 
utter  confusion  and  the  eternal  destruction  of  the  moun- 
tain hunters  who  had  made  so  slight  and  ineffective  a 
search  for  him  —  or  perhaps  none  at  all  —  could  not  be 
realized,  or  his  misfortune  might  have  engendered  far- 
reaching  and  divergent  calamity,  disproportionate  in  all 
eyes  save  his  own. 

He  knew  now  that  he  had  stumbled  upon  a  gang  of 
moonshiners,  and  had  been  taken  for  a  revenue  spy,  or 
a  straggler  from  a  raiding  party.  How  to  escape  with 
this  impression  paramount,  or  indeed  how  to  escape  at 
all,  was  a  question  that  bristled  with  portentous  dubita- 
tion.  He  was  content  to  pretermit  it  in  the  guarded 
watchfulness  that  absorbed  his  every  faculty,  as  one  by 
one  the  men  strode  in  to  the  number  of  four  or  five, 
each  casting  upon  him  a  keen  look,  supplementing  the 
survey  through  the  door. 

One  of  them  he  suddenly  recognized.  "  I  have  seen 
you  before,"  he  said,  with  a  jolly  intonation.  "  This  is 
Sam  Marvin,  ain't  it  ?  " 

The  owner  of  the  name  was  discomfited  when  con- 
fronted with  it,  and  seeing  this,  Harshaw  was  sorry  that 
he  had,  with  the  politician's  instinct,  made  a  point  of 
remembering  it. 

He  could  with  difficulty  eat,  despite  the  fatigues  of 
the  day,  but  he  sat  down  among  them  with  a  hearty 
show  of  appetite  and  with  his  wonted  bluff  manner. 
His  sharpened  attention  took  cognizance  of  many  details 
which  under  ordinary  circumstances  he  would  not  have 
noticed.  He  could  have  sworn  to  every  one  of  the 
rough  faces  —  and  right  welcome  would  have  been  the 
opportunity  —  grouped  about  the  table.  The  men  ate 
in  a  business-like,  capacious  fashion,  especially  one  lean, 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  333 

lank  fellow,  with  unkempt  black  hair  and  a  thin  face, 
the  chin  decorated  with  what  is  known  as  a  goatee. 
Notwithstanding  their  roughness  they  were  not  alto- 
gether unkind.  Philetus  could  not  complain  of  disre- 
garded pleas  as  he  begged  from  chair  to  chair,  under  the 
firm  impression  that  there  was  something  choice  in  the 
menu  not  included  in  the  contents  of  the  pan  placed  for 
him  on  a  bench,  which  should  serve  as  table,  while  he 
was  to  be  seated  on  an  inverted  noggin.  And  the  dogs 
spent  the  time  of  the  family  meal  alternately  in  a  pet- 
rified expectancy  and  sudden  elastic  bounds  to  catch  the 
bits  flung  liberally  over  the  shoulders. 

When  the  repast,  conducted  chiefly  in  silence,  was 
concluded,  the  group  reassembled  about  the  hearth- 
stone, the  pipes  were  lighted,  and  conversation  again  be- 
came practicable.  It  required  some  strong  control  of 
his  faculties  to  bear  himself  as  an  honored  guest  instead 
of  a  suspected  informer,  trapped,  but  Harshaw  managed 
to  support  much  of  his  wonted  manner  as  he  lighted  a 
pipe  that  he  had  in  his  pocket  and  pulled  it  into  a  strong 
glow.  Nevertheless,  he  was  beset  with  a  realization  of 
how  easy  it  would  be  for  them  to  rid  themselves  of  him 
without  a  possibility  that  his  fate  would  excite  suspicion. 
As  he  looked  into  the  flaming  coals  of  the  fire,  his  quick- 
ened imagination  could  picture  a  man  lying  lifeless  at  the 
foot  of  a  great  wall  of  rocks,  —  lying  motionless  where  he 
had  fallen,  but  with  an  averted  face,  —  and  another  vista 
in  which  his  horse,  with  an  empty  saddle,  with  pistols  in 
the  holster,  cropped  the  grass  on  a  slope.  He  thought 
of  it  often  afterward,  —  the  man  lying  lifeless  beneath 
the  crags,  with  a  face  he  did  not  see !  This  was  the 
doom  that  persistently  forced  itself  upon  him  as  most 
obviously,  most  insistently,  his;  naught  else  could  so 
readily  release  these  desperadoes  from  the  peril  that 
threatened  them.  He  began  to  remember  various  stories 
of  Marvin's  old  encounters  with  the  "  revenuers :  "  on 
one  occasion  shots  had  been  exchanged  ;  one  or  more  of 
the  posse  had  been  killed ;  he  could  not  remember  ac- 
curately, but  he  thought  this  was  accredited  to  Jeb 


334  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

Peake,  —  "hongry  Jeb,"  who  could,  according  to  the  pop- 
ular account  of  him,  "  chaw  up  five  men  of  his  weight 
at  a  mouthful  an'  beg  for  more."  They  had  much  at 
stake  ;  perhaps,  as  they  looked  into  the  fire  with  that 
slow,  ruminative  gaze,  they  also  saw  a  picture,  —  a  halter 
wavering  in  the  wind.  The  room  alternately  flared  and 
faded  as  the  flames  rose  and  fell.  It  bore  traces  of 
renovation:  the  door  was  new,  the  floor  patched.  He 
made  a  rough  guess  that  Marvin  had  taken  possession  of 
one  of  the  long-deserted  huts  seen  at  intervals  in  the 
mountains.  Raindrops  presently  pattered  on  the  roof ; 
then  ceased,  as  if  waiting  breathlessly  for  some  mandate ; 
and  again  a  fusillade  ;  and  anon  torrents.  The  melan- 
choly elements  in  the  wild  wastes  without  seemed  not 
uncheerful  companions  in  lieu  of  the  saturnine  group 
about  the  fire.  Alack,  for  liberty,  the  familiar  thing ! 
Harshaw  sought  to  reassure  himself,  noting  their  kind- 
ness to  the  idiot  and  to  the  little  child.  Philetus  climbed 
over  their  feet,  and  made  demands,  of  a  frequency  ap- 
palling to  a  mind  less  repetitious  than  the  one  encased 
in  the  downy  yellow  head,  to  be  ridden  on  their  great 
miry  boots. 

Suddenly  Marvin  spoke  :  "  My  wife  'lows  ez  how  ye 
defended  Mink  Lorey  when  he  war  tried." 

"  I  did,"  said  Harshaw  jauntily. 

"Waal,  did  this  hvar  gal,  —  this  Lethe  Sayles,  ez  lives 
yander  at  the  t'other  eend  o'  the  county,  —  did  she  up 
an'  tell  in  court  ennything  'bout  me  ?  " 

Harshaw  was  not  a  truthful  man  for  conscience'  sake  ; 
but  in  the  course  of  his  practice  he  had  had  occasion  to 
remark  the  inherent  capacity  of  the  truth  for  prevailing. 
He  was  far  too  acute  to  prevaricate. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  sticking  two  fingers  into  his  vest- 
pocket  and  swinging  the  leg  he  had  crossed  over  the 
other,  "  she  swore  that  you  were  moonshining  and  told 
her  so  ;  she  had  told  me  as  much  before.  We  wanted 
to  prove  that  Mink  was  drunk,  and  had  somewhere  to 
get  whiskey  besides  the  bonded  still.  We  could  n't  get 
in  all  the  evidence,  though." 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  335 

The  fire  snapped  and  sparkled  and  flared.  The  pen- 
dent sponge-like  masses  of  soot  clinging  to  the  chimney 
continually  wavered  in  the  strong  current  of  air ;  now 
and  then  fire  was  communicated  to  it,  and  a  dull  em- 
blazonment of  sparks  would  trace  some  mysterious  char- 
acters, dying  out  when  half  realized. 

Harshaw  could  but  see  that  his  frankness  had  pro- 
duced its  impression :  there  was  a  troublous  cast  in 
all  the  stolid  countenances  around  the  hearth  ;  but  he 
was  glad  to  be  regarded  as  a  problem  as  well  as,,  a 
danger. 

"  In  the  name  o'  Gawd,"  exclaimed  Marvin  irritably, 
"  why  did  ye  kem  hyar  ter  this  hyar  place  fur  ?  Ain't 
Shaftesville  big  enough  ter  hold  ye  ?  " 

Harshaw  repeated  the  account  of  himself  which  he  had 
already  given  to  Mrs.  Marvin.  "  I  ain't  ready  to  go 
yet,"  he  remarked.  "  But  when  your  wife  thought  I 
wanted  to,  by  George,  she  got  down  the  gun  and  said  I 
should  n't." 

"  Ye  know  too  much,"  suddenly  put  in  "  hongry  Jeb," 
who  looked  as  cadaverous  and  as  melancholy  as  his  name 
might  imply. 

"  I  know  enough  to  shut  my  mouth,"  said  Harshaw 
bluffly,  "  and  keep  it  shut." 

He  looked  eagerly  at  "hongry  Jeb,"  as  he  threw  this 
out  tentatively. 

The  mountaineer's  face  was  distinct  in  the  firelight, 
and  he  gazed  at  the  leaping  flames  instead  of  at  the 
speaker. 

"  I  ain't  able  ter  afford  ter  resk  it,"  said  "  hongry 
Jeb."  He  made  a  sudden  pass  across  his  jugular  toward 
his  left  ear,  exclaiming  "  Tchisk  !  "  —  the  whites  of  his 
eyes  and  the  double  row  of  his  shining  teeth  showing  as 
he  smiled  horribly  on  Harshaw. 

The  lawyer  turned  sick.  How  could  he  hope  that 
these  moonshiners  would  jeopardize  aught  for  his  sake  ? 
He  could  trust  only  to  himself. 

There  was  some  drinking  as  the  evening  wore  on  ;  the 
monotony  of  this  proceeding  was  beguiled  by  the  fact 


336  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

that  one  of  the  dogs  took  a  drop  occasionally,  at  the 
instance  of  the  youngest  of  the  moonshiners  —  a  mere 
boy  of  twenty  —  and  Marvin's  son  Mose.  It  was  desired 
that  he  should  extend  his  fitness  as  a  boon  companion  by 
the  use  of  a  pipe,  but  he  revolted  at  fire  and  distrusted 
smoke,  and  displayed  much  power  of  shrillness  when 
snatched  by  the  ears  and  cuffed.  He  was  finally  kicked 
out,  to  crawl  wheezingly  under  the  house,  debarred  from 
the  hearth-stone  which  unaccomplished  dogs  who  were 
not  even  bibulous,  much  less  smokers,  were  privileged  to 
enjoy. 

But  the  evening  was  not  convivial.  The  moonshiners 
brooded  silently  as  they  drank  and  smoked.  Among 
them,  unmolested,  Tad  sat.  He  had  never  been  so  happy 
as  now,  poor  fellow.  He  goggled  about  and  laughed  to 
himself  till  lie  fell  asleep,  his  grotesque  head  dropping 
to  one  side,  his  mouth  open,  snoring  prosperously. 

Marvin  glanced  at  him  presently.  Then  he  looked  at 
Harshaw,  showing  his  long  tobacco-stained  teeth  as  he 
laughed.  "  I  hearn  ye  hev  all  been  in  a  mighty  tucker 
ter  know  what  hed  kem  o'  Tad,  down  yander  in  the  flat- 
woods,"  he  said.  He  sat  in  a  slouching  posture  as  he 
smoked,  his  legs  crossed,  his  shoulders  bent,  his  head 
thrust  forward.  "  Lethe  Sayles  tole  me  'bout'n  it." 

"  Old  Griff  has  nearly  lost  his  mind  about  Tad,"  said 
Harshaw. 

"  What  ?  "  demanded  Marvin,  with  an  affectation  of 
deep  surprise.  "  Can't  he  find  nuthin'  else  ter  cuss  an' 
beat?" 

"  Pore  —  old  —  man  !  "  exclaimed  "  hongry  Jeb,"  wag- 
ging his  black  head,  and  showing  the  gleaming  whites  of 
his  eyes  in  his  characteristic  sidelong  glance. 

"  Well,  I  expect  Tad  has  been  a  good  deal  better  off 
along  of  you,"  Harshaw  admitted.  "  But  that  don't 
make  it  right  for  you  to  have  kidnapped  him." 

"  Lord  knows,  we-uns  did  n't  want  him,"  said  Marvin. 
"We-uns  ain't  gifted  in  goadin'  sech  a- critter  ez  him, 
like  old  man  Griff.  We  can't  git  work  enough  out'n  him 
ter  wuth  the  stealin'.  He  jes'  kem  up  ter  whar  we-uns 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  337 

lived,  one  night.  I  reckon  't  war  several  nights  arter  he 
war  flung  in  the  water.  He  looked  mighty  peaked." 

"  An'  I  never  see  a  critter  so  hongry,"  put  in  the  pul- 
let boldly  from  her  seat  in  the  chimney  corner,  her  long 
yellow  feet  dangling  beneath  her  short  homespun  skirt, 
her  hair,  which  was  luxuriant,  gathered  in  a  sort  of  top- 
knot on  her  head,  "  'thout  't  war  Jeb  thar."  She  gave  a 
cackling  laugh  of  elation  at  this  thrust,  as  she  knitted  oft' 
her  needle  in  a  manner  that  might  make  one  wonder  to 
see  a  pullet  so  deft. 

Jeb  good-naturedly  grinned,  and  Marvin  went  on  :  — 

"  We  reckoned  he  war  a  spy  for  the  revenuers,  'kase 
they  'lowed  we  would  n't  suspect  sech  ez  him,  sent  ter 
find  out  edzac'ly  whar  the  place  be,  an'  we  war  'feared 
ter  let  him  go  back." 

Harshaw  winced. 

"  So  we  jes'  kerried  him  off  along  o'  we-uns.  Mebbe 
't  war  n't  right,  but  folkses  sech  ez  we-uns  air  can't  be 
choosers." 

"  Naw,  sir  ;  else  we  can't  be  folkses,"  said  "  hongry 
Jeb." 

How  could  he  grin,  with  that  lean,  ghastly  countenance, 
whenever  he  contemplated  his  terrible  jeopardy  ! 

"  Ef  Tad  hed  been  well  keered  fur  at  home  I  'd  hev 
felt  wuss,  but  't  would  n't  hev  made  no  differ,"  said 
Marvin  ;  "  but  I  know'd  I  could  do  better  bv  him  'n  old 
Griff." 

"  Mink  'a  in  jail  now  to  be  tried  again  for  drowning 
him,"  said  Harshaw,  surprised  at  his  own  boldness. 

"  Waal,  stranger,"  said  Marvin  satirically,  evidently 
going  to  make  the  best  of  it,  "  the  court  air  "gin  over  ter 
makin'  mistakes,  an'  we  pay  taxes  ter  support  a  S'preme 
Court  ter  make  some  mo'.  Man  's  human,  arter  all  ;  he 
can't  be  trested  ter  turn  from  everything  else,  an'  take 
arter  the  right  an'  jestice.  He  ain't  like  my  gran'dad's 
dog,  ez  would  always  leave  the  scent  of  deer  or  b'ar  an' 
trail  Injun.  That  dog  knowed  what  war  expected  of 
him,  an'  he  done  it.  But  man 's  human.  Man 's  nuthin' 
but  human." 


338  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  Ho  !  ho  !  ho  !  "  laughed  "  hongry  Jeb,"  in  apprecia- 
tive elation. 

A  pause  ensued. 

The  sound  of  the  rain  on  the  roof  was  intermitted  at 
intervals,  and  the  wind  lifted  a  desolate  voice  in  the  soli- 
tudes. The  sense  of  the  vast  wilderness  without,  meas- 
ureless, trackless,  infinitely  melancholy,  preyed  upon  the 
consciousness.  Perhaps  Harshaw,  in  the  quick  transi- 
tion from  the  artificial  life  of  the  world,  was  more  suscep- 
tible to  these  influences,  more  easily  abashed,  confronted 
with  the  grave,  austere,  and  august  presence  of  Nature. 
He  had  a  fleeting  remembrance  of  life  in  the  city :  the 
gush  of  soft  light ;  the  mingled  sound  of  music  and  the 
babbling  of  the  fountain  in  the  rotunda  of  the  hotel ;  the 
Capitol  building,  seen  sometimes  through  morning  fogs 
and  contending  sunshine,  isolated  in  the  air  above  the 
roofs  of  the  surrounding  town,  like  a  fine  mirage,  some 
turreted  illusion  ;  and  again  its  white  limestone  walls 
ponderously  imposed,  every  line  definite,  upon  the  deep 
blue  midday  sky. 

That  other  sphere  of  his  existence  seemed  for  the  mo- 
ment more  real  to  him  ;  he  had  a  reluctance  as  of  awaken- 
ing from  a  trance,  as  he  gazed  at  the  unkempt  circle  of 
mountaineers  about  the  dying  fire. 

They  were  beginning  to  yawn  heavily  now.  Marvin 
was  laying  the  chunks  together  and  covering  them  \vith 
ashes,  to  keep  the  coals  till  morning.  Harshaw  looked 
on  meditatively.  Once,  as  he  lifted  his  eyes,  he  became 
aware  that  they  were  all  covertly  watching  him  with 
curiosity  and  speculation. 


XXIV. 

QUIET  did  not  immediately  ensue.  After  Harshaw 
had  been  ushered  up  the  rickety  ladder  to  the  roof-room 
he  heard  voices  below  in  low-toned  conference.  Occa- 
sionally he  noted  the  peculiar  chuckle  of  "  hongry  Jeb/' 
suppressed  even  beneath  its  usual  undertone ;  for  it  was 
a  sort  of  susurrus  of  laughter,  never  absolutely  vocal,  — 
a  series  of  snorts  and  pantings.  It  was  not  jocular  at 
best,  and  now  conveyed  sinister  suggestions  to  Harshaw, 
as  he  listened  to  the  vague  sound  of  words  he  could 
not  distinguish.  He  had  not  been  conscious  of  an  effort 
of  close  observation  during  the  evening,  and  he  was 
surprised  to  discover  how  definitely  he  could  differen- 
tiate the  murmurs,  the  mere  methods  of  speech,  of  the 
various  members  of  the  household.  As  they  discussed 
his  fate,  he  knew  who  urged  measures,  who  was  over- 
powered in  argument,  who  doubted.  Now  and  then  a 
word  or  two  in  the  woman's  shrill  voice  broke  from  the 
huskiness  of  her  whisper,  for  she  was  the  most  insistent 
of  the  group.  He  divined  that  her  views  were  not  mild, 
and  he  took  hope  from  the  intimations  of  opposition  in 
the  tones  of  the  men  as  they  gruffly  counseled  quiet. 
She  it  was,  he  felt  sure,  whom  most  he  had  to  fear. 

He  had  thrown  himself,  dressed  as  he  was,  on  the 
sorry  couch,  which  was  made  by  placing  two  poles  be- 
tween the  logs  of  the  house,  supported  at  the  other  end 
by  a  cross-bar  laid  in  two  crotched  uprights  on  the  floor. 
It  was  not  a  stable  contrivance,  nor,  although  it  upheld 
a  heavy  feather  bed,  conducive  to  slumber,  but  Harshaw 
cared  little  for  sleep. 

The  rain  came  through  the  leaks  in  the  roof,  now  in 
an  intermittent,  sullen  pattering,  and  now  the  drops  fall- 
ing in  quick  succession,  tossed  by  the  wind  that  whistled 


340  IN  THE   CLOUDS, 

through  the  crevices,  and  piped  a  shrill  refrain  to  the 
sonorous  cadences  trumpeted  by  the  great  chimney. 
Once,  in  a  sudden  flash  of  lightning,  which  was  far  dis- 
tant and  without  thunder,  he  saw  through  gaps  in  the 
chinking,  the  white  clouds  pressing  close  to  the  house. 

Again  and  again  his  courage  would  reassert  itself,  of 
its  own  sheer  force,  and  he  would  experience  a  sort  of 
affront  that  it  had  ever  lapsed.  He  hardly  knew  how  he 
could  hereafter  face  that  fact  in  his  consciousness.  Then, 
in  arguing  to  reinstate  his  self-respect,  he  would  review 
the  dangers  of  his  position,  —  and  thus  rouse  anew  the 
fears  he  had  sought  to  still.  He  would  wonder  that  he 
did  not  die  of  fright ;  that  he  made  no  effort  to  escape,  to 
fire  the  house  and  force  his  way  out  in  the  confusion,  — 
his  fingers  even  fumbled  the  matches  in  his  pocket ;  that 
he  could  lie  still  and  listen  to  the  sound  of  words  im- 
possible to  distinguish ;  that  he  could  turn,  with  the 
heavy  gesture  of  one  roused  from  sleep,  when  he  heard 
a  footfall  on  the  rude  stairs,  and  look  yawning  over  his 
shoulder,  and  demand  in  a  slumbrous  voice,  "  Why  in 
the  hell  do  you  make  such  a  racket  ?  " 

A  glimmer  of  light  quivered  on  the  brown  rafters  ;  it 
grew  momently  less  flickering ;  it  revealed  the  wretched 
apartment,  the  slanting  floor,  one  or  two  pallets  rolled 
up  against  the  wall.  And  finally,  as  from  a  trap-door 
of  a  theatre,  through  the  rude  aperture  in  the  floor,  Jeb's 
gaunt  black  head  appeared  among  the  shadows  which 
the  tallow  dip,  that  he  carried  in  his  hand,  could  not 
dispel. 

He  came  in,  and  placed  the  sputtering  light  on  a 
strut  that  supported  one  of  the  rafters,  and  was  con- 
verted to  shelf-like  utility.  Marvin  followed,  sitting 
down  on  the  foot  of  Harshaw's  bed.  His  face  was  more 
lowering  than  that  of  the  other  man ;  he  leaned  his 
hands  ponderingly  on  his  knees,  his  elbows  turned  out- 
ward, and  bent  his  eyes  on  the  floor  in  deep  medita- 
tion. 

There  was  a  short  silence. 

"Hello  ?  "  said  Harshaw  interrogatively,  raising  him- 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  341 

self  on  his  elbow  and  boldly  taking  the  initiative.  "  Any- 
thing the  matter  ?  " 

Jeb  sat  down  on  a  keg  close  to  the  chimney,  and  the 
perturbed  hosts  glanced  at  one  another. 

"  Waal,  stranger,"  said  Marvin,  u  ye  hev  gone  an' 
put  us  in  a  peck  o'  troubles,  ter  kem  interruptin'  us  in 
this  fur  place,  whar  we  hev  been  hunted  an'  hounded 
ter." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  remarked  "  hongry  Jeb,"  "  same  ez  the 
varmint,  ez  be  specially  lef  out'n  salvation  by  the 
Bible." 

Marvin  cast  a  glance  over  his  shoulder  at  Harshaw. 
Then  he  continued,  evidently  striving  to  put  the  worst 
possible  interpretation  on  the  situation  and  to  work  him- 
self into  a  rage  :  "  We-uns  air  a-thinkin'  ez  ye  mought 
be  a  spy  fur  the  revenuers." 

Harshaw  let  his  head  fall  back  on  the  pillow.  His 
resonant,  burly  laugh  rang  out.  jarring  the  rafters,  and 
rousing  in  its  hearty  jocundity  the  reciprocity  of  a  smile 
on  "hongry  Jeb's "  cadaverous  face.  Even  Marvin, 
casting  another  hasty  look  over  his  shoulder,  was  mol- 
lified. 

"  Ye  'd  better  be  keerful  how  ye  wake  Philetus  up, 
with  his  nap  haffen  out ;  ye  11  low  ye  air  neighborin'  a 
catamount,"  he  admonished  his  guest. 

"  I  tell  you,"  said  Harshaw,  clasping  his  hands  behind 
his  yellow  head  as  he  lay  at  length,  "  you  fellows  live  up 
here  in  these  lonesome  woods  till  your  brains  are  addled. 
"Why  on  earth  would  I,  single-handed,  mind  you,  a  law- 
yer, a  member  of  the  legislature,  with  a  good  big  farm 
of  my  own  and  half  a  dozen  houses  in  town,"  (he  had 
never  before  thought  to  brag  of  them,)  "risk  myself 
here,  for  the  little  reward  I  could  get  if — mighty  big 
if,  folks  —  if  I  could  get  away  again  ?  " 

He  lifted  his  eyes,  with  a  bluff  challenge  of  fair  play. 

"  You  know  who  /  am.  You  've  seen  me  in  Shaftes- 
ville.  You  know  my  farm  down  there  in  Kildeer  County, 
on  Owl  Creek.  Spy  !  Shucks  !  it  makes  me  laugh.  Do 
the  quality  often  come  spying  for  the  revenuers  in  this 
neighborhood  ?  " 


342  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

Ten  days  ago  he  could  not  have  believed  that,  how- 
ever closely  harried,  his  tongue  would  ever  so  forget  its 
formula  as  thus  to  repudiate  his  alignment  with  the  Plain 
People,  and  to  claim  to  rank  with  "  the  quality." 

Under  other  circumstances  the  two  mountaineers  might 
have  resented  this  arrogation  of  superiority.  They  were, 
however,  by  virtue  of  their  law-breaking,  a  trifle  more 
worldly-wise  than  their  stolid  compatriots  of  the  hills. 
Jt  had  been  in  some  sort  an  education ;  had  familiarized 
them  with  the  springs  of  commercial  action,  the  relations 
of  producer  and  consumer,  the  value  of  money  or  its 
equivalent ;  had  endowed  them  with  an  appreciation  of 
emergency  and  an  ingenuity  in  expedients  and  make- 
shifts ;  had  forced  upon  their  contemplation  the  opera- 
tions of  the  law  ;  and  their  great  personal  risk  had  su- 
perinduced care,  thoughtfulness,  and  the  exercise  of  a 
certain  rude  logic. 

As  they  unconsciously  sought  to  realize  Harshaw's 
position  in  the  world,  resources,  opportunity,  their  suspi- 
cion that  he  was  a  spy  gradually  waned. 

There  was  a  pause.  The  candle  sputtered  on  the 
timber  where  it  had  been  placed,  the  flame  now  rising 
apparently  with  an  effort  to  touch  a  resinous  knot  in 
the  wood  just  above  it,  and  now  crouching  in  a  sudden 
gust  from  a  crevice  hard  by.  The  rain  came  down  with 
redoubled  force  for  a  few  moments,  then  subsided  again 
into  its  former  steady,  monotonous  fall.  Harshaw's 
senses,  preternaturally  keen  now,  detected  an  almost  im- 
perceptible stir  on  the  ladder  that  ascended  to  the  loft. 
He  knew  as  well  as  if  he  had  seen  the  coterie  that  Mar- 
vin's wife  and  the  rest  of  the  moonshiners  were  sitting  on 
the  rounds,  listening  and  awaiting  the  announcement  of 
his  fate.  Perhaps  it  was  this  which  prompted  his  reply, 
when  Marvin  said  pettishly,  — 

"  It  air  all  M'ria's  fault.  Ef  she  hed  n't  been  so 
powerful  quick  ter  git  down  the  gun,  ye  'd  hev  never 
knowed  nor  axed  whar  ye  war,  nor  s'picioned  nuthin'." 

"  Yes-,  I  would,  though,"  Harshaw  declared. 

Marvin  once  more  looked  over  his  shoulder,  and  the 
lawyer  quaked  at  the  risk  he  ran. 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  343 

"  I  saw  Tad,  you  know,  and  I  was  figurin'  round, 
big  as  all-out-of-doors,  how  I  was  going  to  produce  him 
in  court,  and  she  thought  I  meant  right  off.  Then,  the 
minute  I  saw  you  I  knew  you,  —  arid  I  had  heard  that 
girl  say  you  were  moonshining." 

"  Ai-yi !  Sam  Marvin  !  "  cried  a  shrill  feminine  voice 
from  the  primitive  stairway,  "  that 's  what  ye  got  fur 
tryin'  ter  put  the  blame  on  me  !  " 

Sam  Marvin  turned  his  bushy  head  toward  the  aper- 
ture in  the  floor.  It  might  seem  that  Mrs.  Marvin  had 
left  him  nothing  to  say,  but  the  versatility  of  the  conju- 
gal retort  is  well-nigh  limitless,  and  he  could  doubtless 
have  defended  himself  with  an  admirable  valor  had  not 
Jeb  "  the  hongry  "  interfered. 

"  Shet  up,  Sam,"  he  said,  looking  positively  famished 
in  his  lean  anxiety.  "  We-uns  hed  n't  thunk  o'  that. 
Mink  Lorey  hev  got  ter  be  tried  agin." 

It  was  all  that  Harshaw  could  do  to  restrain  some  ex- 
pression of  despair  at  this  infelicitous  turn  given  to  the 
consultation,  at  which  he  seemed  to  assist  to  devise  his 
own  doom.  He  found  a  certain  relief  in  shifting  his 
position,  and  still,  with  his  hands  clasped  under  his  head, 
briskly  participated  in  the  conversation. 

"  Yes,"  he  assented  in  a  debonair  way  which  caused 
Marvin  to  look  at  him  in  lowering  amazement,  "I'm 
Mink's  lawyer,  but  I  could  n't  testify  for  him.  I  could 
n't  swear  of  my  own  knowledge  that  this  Tad  is  the  same 
boy,  for  I  never  saw  him  before." 

Both  of  the  men  lapsed  into  the  attitude  of  laborious 
pondering.  Now  and  then  each  looked  at  the  other,  as 
if  to  descry  some  intimation  of  the  mutual  effect. 

Harshaw,  with  another  bold  effort  to  possess  the  situa- 
tion, yawned  widely  and  stretched  his  muscles. 

"Oh  —  oh  —  oh — oh!"  he  exclaimed  on  a  steadily 
descending  scale.  "  Well,  gentlemen,"  his  features  once 
more  at  rest,  his  voice  normal,  "I  should  be  glad  to 
continue  our  conversation  to-morrow  "  —  he  waved  his 
hand  bluffly  —  "  or  next  week.  I  ain't  used  to  huntin', 
—  that  is,  huntin'  deer,  —  and  I  'm  in  and  about  knocked 


344  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

up.  If  you  Ve  got  anything  to  say  to  me,  say  it  now, 
or  keep  it  till  to-morrow." 

The  two  looked  doubtfully  at  each  other. 

"  Mr.  Harshaw,"  said  Marvin,  "  we-uns  air  feared  to 
let  you-uns  go." 

"  Go  to  sleep  ?  "  asked  Harshaw  jocosely. 

Jeb  grinned,  weakly,  however,  and  Marvin  contin- 
ued :  — 

"  Ter  go  'way  at  all." 

"  Well,"  said  Harshaw,  easily,  with  another  demon- 
stration of  somnolence,  "  I  '11  stay  just  as  long  as  you 
like  ;  you  're  a  clever  lot  of  fellows,  and  I  '11  be  con- 
tented enough,  I  '11  be  bound.  Your  sitting  up  all  night 
is  the  only  fault  I've  got  to  find  with  you." 

They  apparently  submitted  this  answer  from  one  to 
the  other,  and  each  silently  canvassed  it. 

"  Ye  know  too  much,"  said  "  hongry  Jeb." 

"  I  '11  know  more  if  I  stay.  I  '11  find  out  whether  you 
are  moonshining  now,  sure  enough,  and  where  the  still 
is." 

"  That  "s  jes'  what  I  hev  been  tellin'  ye  !  "  cried  Mrs. 
Marvin's  shrill  voice  from  the  ladder. 

"  Shet  up,  M'ria  !  "  exclaimed  Marvin,  before  "  hon- 
gry Jeb  "  could  interpose  his  pacifying  "  Shet  up,  Sam." 

"  Waal,"  resumed  Marvin,  in  angry  perturbation, 
"  it 's  mighty  ill-convenient,  yer  nosin'  us  out  this  way, 
up  hyar,  an'  many  a  man  fixed  like  me  an'  Jeb  would 
fling  ye  off'n  a  bluff,  ez  ef  ye  hed  fell  thar,  an'  turn  yer 
mare  loose." 

Once  more  Harshaw's  rich,  round  laughter  jarred  the 
room. 

"  I  'm  in  earnest,"  said  Marvin,  sternly.  "  That  's 
what  most  men  would  do." 

"  Oh  no,  they  would  n't,"  said  Harshaw,  cavalierly. 

"Why  would  n't  they?  "  demanded  Marvin,  his  curi- 
osity aroused  by  this  strange  indifference. 

"  Because  these  fellows  I  was  bunting  with  will  be 
sure  to  find  this  place,  and  they  would  know  I  would  n't 
go  fall  off  a  bluff  of  my  own  accord,  after  such  a  good 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  345 

supper  as  I  had  here,  and  such  a  good  bed.  They 
wouldn't  know  I  wasn't  allowed  to  sleep  in  it,  though, 
on  account  of  a  long- jawed  couple  like  you  two." 

He  looked  the  picture  of  unconcern,  —  as  if  he  had 
not  really  credited  their  words. 

"  They  could  n't  track  ye  hyar,"  argued  Jeb  ;  "  ground 
too  dry  in  the  evening  fur  yer  critter's  huffs  to  make 
enny  mark." 

44  Bless  your  bones  !  "  cried  Harshaw,  contemptuously, 
"  I  broke  a  path  nigh  a  yard  wide  in  the  brush,  and  I 
blazed  every  oak-tree  I  met  with  my  hunting-knife,  — 
look  and  see  how  hacked  it  is,  —  and  I  cut  my  name  on 
the  first  beech  I  came  across.  Think  I  was  going  to 
get  lost  in  this  wilderness  without  leaving  any  way  for 
my  friends  to  find  me  ?  They  know  pretty  well  where 
they  left  me.  As  soon  as  it's  light  enough  they  11  be  on 
my  track." 

He  lied  seldom,  but  with  startling  effect.  The  veri- 
similitude of  his  invention,  which  had  flashed  upon  him 
at  the  last  moment,  carried  conviction.  The  other  two 
men  looked  at  each  other  in  consternation. 

This  they  thought  was  the  secret  of  his  ease  of  mind. 
This  was  the  reason  that  he  was  willing  to  abide  with 
them  as  long  as  they  listed.  These  mysterious  friends, 
these  lurking  hunters,  might  materialize  at  any  moment 
when  day  should  fairly  dawn.  The  moonshiners  asked 
with  eager  curiosity  the  names  of  the  party.  Marvin 
knew  none  of  them,  for  it  was  a  new  region  to  him,  and 
his  vocation  restricted  his  social  opportunities.  He  had 
sprung  up  from  the  bed,  and  stood  holding  his  ragged 
beard  with  one  hand,  and  gazing  with  perplexed  eyes  at 
the  recumbent  lawyer.  The  frightful  deed  that  he  and 
his  confederates  had  contemplated,  that  had  seemed  their 
only  safe  recourse,  —  to  fling  the  intruder  over  a  preci- 
pice, and  to  leave  his  mare  grazing  near,  as  if  in  his 
search  he  had  fallen,  —  had  a  predestined  discovery 
through  the  craft  of  the  man  who  had  marked  the  de- 
vious trail  of  his  footsteps  to  their  door.  The  moon- 
shiner trembled,  as  he  stood  so  near  this  pitfall  into 
which  he  had  almost  stumbled.  . 


346  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

There  had  been  a  stir  on  the  ladder;  clumsy  feet 
descended  the  rickety  rungs.  The  movements  below 
continued  ;  there  sounded  the  harsh  scraping  of  a 
shovel  on  the  rude  stones  of  the  hearth,  and  pres- 
ently the  newly  kindled  flames  were  crackling  up  the 
chimney;  the  flickering  tallow  dip  was  not  so  bright 
that  the  lines  of  light  in  the  crevices  of  the  flooring 
might  not  indicate  how  the  room  below  was  suddenly 
illumined.  A  smell  of  frying  bacon  presently  pervaded 
the  midnight. 

"  By  Gosh !  "  cried  Marvin,  rousing  himself  from  his 
brown  study  with  a  quick  start,  "  air  M'ria  demented, 
ter  set  out  a-cookin'  o'  breakfus'  in  the  middle  o'  the 
night?" 

He  turned  himself  suddenly  about,  and  started  down 
the  ladder.  "  Hongry  Jeb,"  looking  after  him  with  a 
keen  anxiety,  rose  abruptly,  took  the  candle,  and,  hold- 
ing it  above  his  lean,  cadaverous  face,  vanished  by  slow 
degrees  through  the  trap-door,  feeling  with  his  feet  for 
each  round  of  the  ladder  before  he  trusted  his  weight 
upon  it.  Harshaw  lifted  himself  upon  his  elbow,  watch- 
ing the  gradual  disappearance.  His  face  was  pink  once 
more  ;  the  flesh  that  had  seemed  ten  minutes  since  to 
hang  flabbily  upon  it  was  firm  and  full ;  his  opaque  blue 
eyes  were  bright ;  the  last  feeble,  ineffective  rays  of  the 
vanishing  candle  showed  his  strong  white  teeth  between 
his  parted  red  lips,  and  his  triumphant  red  tongue  thrust 
out  derisively. 

Then  he  fell  back  on  his  pillow  and  tried  to  sleep. 
He  felt,  however,  the  pressure  of  the  excitement ;  his 
pulses,  his  nerves,  could  not  so  readily  accord  with  his 
calm  mental  conclusions,  his  logical  inference  of  safety. 
The  tension  upon  his  alert  senses  was  unrelaxed.  The 
stir  below-stairs  made  its  incisive  impression  now,  when 
he  hardly  cared  to  hear,  as  before,  when  he  had  strained 
every  faculty  to  listen.  He  knew  that  it  was  Mrs.  Mar- 
vin who  had  first  devised  the  solution  of  the  difficulty ; 
she  had  already  set  about  its  execution  while  she  advo- 
cated the  measure,  and  insisted  and  argued  with  the 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  347 

men,  who  were  disposed  to  canvass  alternatives,  and 
doubt,  and  wait.  Often  her  shrill  voice  broke  from  the 
bated  undertone  in  which  they  sought  to  conduct  the 
conference,  or  she  whispered  huskily,  with  vibrant  dis- 
tinctness, hardly  less  intelligible. 

"  Ye  an'  Jeb  take  him,"  she  urged.  "  Let  the  t'oth- 
ers  go  an'  hide  round  'bout  the  still.  When  the  hunters 
git  hyar  they  '11  find  me  an'  Mose  an'  the  chillen,  an' 
I  '11  tell  'em  my  old  man  be  gone  with  Mr.  Harshaw, 
a-guidin'  him  dawn  the  mounting.  They  '11  never  know 
ez  thar  be  fenny  moonshinin'  a-goin'  on  hyar-abouts,  — 
nuthin'  ter  shov/  fur  it." 

She  clashed  her  pans  and  pots  and  kettles,  in  the  en- 
ergy of  her  discourse,  and  Harshaw  lost  the  muttered 
objection. 

u  Ef  ye  don't,"  she  persisted,  in  her  sibilant  whisper, 
—  "  ef  ye  kill  him,  fling  him  off'n  the  bluff  or  sech,  — 
they  '11  find  the  body,  sure  !  " 

A  chill  ran  through  the  listener  as  he  bent  his  ear. 

"  The  buzzards  or  the  wolves  will  fust,  an'  them 
men  '11  track  him  ter  our  door,  an'  track  ye  ter  the 
spot." 

The  rain  pelted  on  the  roof ;  the  flames  roared  up  the 
chimney  ;  the  frying  meat  sputtered  and  sizzled,  and  the 
coffee  dissipated  a  beguiling  promissory  odor.  One  of 
the  men  —  the  lawyer  thought  it  was  "'  hongry  Jeb  "  — 
suggested  in  a  dolorous  whisper  that  they  could  depend 
in  no  degree  on  Harshaw's  promise  of  secrecy.  No  man 
regarded  an  enforced  pledge  as  sacred. 

"  Them  's  all  old  offenses,  ennyhows,"  argued  the 
woman.  "  But  this  hyar,  what  ye  men  air  a-layin'  off 
ter  do  "  — 

"  '  Ye  men '  /  "  sneered  her  husband.  "  Ye  war  the 
bouncin'est  one  o'  the  whole  lay-out  fur  doin'  of  it." 

"  But,  Lord  A'mighty,"  she  protested,  "  who  'd  ever 
hev  thunk  o'  sech  a  smart  thing  ez  markin'  his  trail  ter 
the  very  door  ?  He  mus'  be  the  devil.  Smart  enough, 
ennyways  !  " 

She  clashed  her  pots  and  pans  once  more,  and  moved 
about  heavily  across  the  floor. 


348  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  I  ain't  misdoubtin'  but  wbat  he  air  a  big  man  whar 
he  hails  from,  an'  they  sets  store  by  him,  an'  they  'd  be 
mighty  apt  ter  stir  round  powerful  arter  him  ef  he  was 
los'.  An'  this  would  be  a  new  offense,  —  sure  ter  git 
fund  out.  An'  Lord  knows,  we-uns  hev  been  runned 
mighty  nigh  ter  the  jumpm'-off  place  from  the  face  o' 
the  yearth,  an'  I  want  ter  be  let  ter  set  down,  an'  ketch 
my  breath,  an'  see  Philetus  grow  an'  git  hearty,  an'  let 
me  hev  a  chance  ter  die  in  peace." 

Once  more  Jeb's  rumbling  voice  rose  along  the  stair- 
way. 

"  Shet  up,  Jeb  !  "  she  cried.  "  Ye  hev  jes'  been  a-set- 
tin'  thar  all  the  night  a-shakin'  yer  head,  an'  a-lowin'  ye 
wisht  he  hed  done  suthin'  mean  ter  ye,  so  ez  in  gittin' 
rid  o'  him  yer  feelins  would  n't  be  hurt.  Now  yer  feel- 
ins  air  safe,  an'  ye  ain't  got  no  mo'  thankfulness  'n  that 
thar  cross-eyed,  mangy  hound  fur  the  loan  o'  a  pipe." 

The  mystery  of  cerebration  ;  the  strange,  unmeasured 
force  which  works  in  uncomprehended  methods  to  un- 
foreseen results ;  the  subtle  process  now  formulating, 
and  now  erasing,  an  idea,  like  the  characters  of  a  pal- 
impsest, was  never  so  potently  present  to  Harshaw  as  in 
contemplating  the  inspiration,  the  lucky  thought,  that 
had  given  him  back  to  life,  to  hope,  to  sheer  identity. 
He  took  himself  to  task,  knowing  that  the  obvious,  the 
natural,  the  simple  suggestion  had  lain  all  the  evening 
in  his  mind,  waiting  the  effective  moment.  He  re- 
proached himself  that  he  should  have  suffered  the  agony 
of  fright  which  he  had  endured.  "  I  might  have. known," 
he  argued  within  himself,  in  his  bluff  vanity,  u  that  /  'd 
come  out  all  right." 

He  fell  asleep,  presently,  and  when  he  was  roused  he 
rose  with  so  genuine  a  reluctance  that  the  last  lurking 
doubt  which  Marvin  and  "  hongry  Jeb  "  had  entertained 
vanished,  as  he  went  yawning  down  the  ladder. 

"I  hate  ter  hev  ter  turn  ye  out'n  my  house  'fore  day," 
Marvin  remarked,  "but  ye  know  I  'm  hunted  like  a  b'ar, 
or  suthin'  wild,  an'  I  can't  be  expected  ter  show  man- 
ners like  folks.  Me  an'  Jeb  air  a-goin'  ter  take  ye  pretty 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  349 

fur  off,  so  ez  ye  kin  never  find  yer  way  back,  an'  by 
daylight,  ye  '11  be  set  in  yer  road.  I  'm  hopin'  yer 
friends  won't  git  hyar ;  ef  they  does,  I  don't  want  'em 
ter  kem  in,  an'  ef  they  hain't  got  no  reason  ter  stop  I 
reckon  they  '11  go  on.  I  'm  powerful  sorry  ye  kem 
along." 

"  Though  ye  be  toler'ble  good  com'p'ny,  an'  we-uns 
ain't  got  nuthin'  agin  you-uns,"  remarked  "hongry  Jeb," 


se,"  continued  Marvin,  in  a  sing-song  fashion,  as 
he  sat  down  at  his  table,  on  which  the  corn-dodgers  and 
bacon  smoked,  "  'kase  we-uns  air  hunted  an'  driv  by  the 
law,  —  ez  'lows  we  sha'n't  still  our  own  corn  ef  we  air  a 
mind  ter,  —  we  hev  been  afeard  ye  'd  tell  'bout'n  we-uns 
an'  whar  we  air  hid." 

"  What  for  ?  "  demanded  Harshaw,  with  an  incidental 
manner.  He  too  was  seated  at  the  board ;  one  elbow 
was  on  it,  and  he  passed  his  hand  over  his  eyes  and 
yawned  as  he  spoke.  "  So  as  to  be  dead  sure  to  get  beat 
like  hell  the  next  time  I  run  for  anything  ?  An  informer 
is  mighty  unpopular,  no  matter  what  he  has  got  to  tell. 
And  make  the  biggest  kind  of  hole  in  my  law  prac- 
tice ?  " 

"  That 's  a  fac',"  said  Jeb,  impressed  with  the  logic  of 
this  proposition. 

"  The  favor  of  Cherokee  and  Kildeer  counties  is  the 
breath  of  my  political  life,  and  you  don't  catch  me  a-fool- 
ing  with  it  by  letting  my  jaw  wag  too  slack,"  continued 
Harshaw. 

Philetus,  the  only  member  of  the  family  that  had 
gone  to  bed,  slumbered  peacefully  in  a  small  heap  under 
the  party-colored  quilts.  The  dancing  firelight  revealed 
his  yellow  head,  and  again  it  was  undistinguishable  in 
the  brown  shadow.  The  pullet  and  Mose  sat  on  a  bench 
at  one  side  of  the  fire,  and  the  moonshiners  tilted  their 
chairs  back  on  the  hind  legs,  and  watched  the  bright 
and  leaping  flames,  which  were  particularly  clear,  the 
fire  being  rekindled  upon  a  warm  hearth  and  in  a  chim- 
ney already  full  of  hot  air.  The  occasional  yawning  of 


350  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

the  group  gave  the  only  indication  of  the  hour.  The 
sharp-faced  woman  sat  in  her  chair,  with  folded  arms, 
and  ever  and  anon  gazing  at  her  guest,  who  had  so 
strangely  commended  himself.  His  clever  ruse  to  insure 
being  followed  by  his  friends  had  induced  infinite  ad- 
miration of  his  acumen. 

"  I  reckon  ef  ye  wanted  ter  go  ter  Congress  or  sech, 
thar  would  n't  be  nuthin'  ter  hender,"  she  said  slowly, 
contemplating  him. 

She  was  a  simple  woman,  and  he  a  wise  man.  He 
flushed  with  pleasure  to  hear  his  cherished  thought  in 
another's  words.  He  bore  himself  more  jauntily  at  the 
very  suggestion.  He  toyed  with  his  knife  and  fork  as 
he  protested. 

"  There  's  a  mighty  long  road  to  travel  'twixt  me  and 
Congress." 

"  Waal,  you-uns  kin  make  it,  I  '11  be  bound,"  she  said. 

And  he  believed  her. 

As  he  rose  from  the  table,  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
meal,  he  took  out  his  purse. 

"  Nare  cent,"  said  Marvin  hastily.  "  We-uns  hev  been 
obligated  by  yer  comp'ny,  an'  air  powerful  pleased  ter 
part  in  peace." 

Harshaw  insisted,  however,  on  leaving  his  knife  for 
Philetus,  and  expressed  regret  that  one  of  the  blades  was 
broken. 

"  He  can't  cut  hisself  with  that  un,  nohow,"  said  the 
anxious  mother,  in  graciously  accepting  it. 

Harshaw  divined  that  she  might  have  valued  it  more 
if  all  the  blades  had  been  in  like  plight.  She  placed  it 
carefully  on  the  high  mantelpiece,  where,  it  was  safe 
to  say,  Philetus  would  not  for  some  years  be  able  to 
attain  it. 

Harshaw  never  forgot  that  ride.  As  the  light  flick- 
ered out  from  the  door  into  the  black  midnight,  vaguely 
crossed  with  slanting  lines  of  rain,  to  the  rail-fence  where 
his  mare  stood,  saddled,  the  pistols  in  the  holster,  he 
experienced  an  added  sense  of  confidence  in  his  own 
methods  and  capacities,  and  an  intense  elation  that  so 


/AT  THE    CLOUDS.  351 

serious  an  adventure  had  terminated  with  so  little  in- 
jury- 

When  he  was  in  the  saddle  he  looked  back  at  the  little 
house,  crouching  in  the  infinite  gloom  of  the  night  and 
the  vast  forests  that  overhung  it,  with  no  fierce  recollec- 
tion of  his  trepidation,  of  his  deadly  and  imminent  peril. 
In  conducting  himself  with  due  regard  for  the  represen- 
tations he  had  made,  his  mental  attitude  had  in  some 
sort  adapted  itself  to  his  manner,  and  he  felt  as  uncon- 
cerned, as  easy,  as  friendly,  as  he  looked.  He  hallooed 
back  a  genial  adieu  to  the  household  standing  in  the 
doorway,  in  the  flare  of  the  fire.  Philetus,  roused  by 
the  noise  to  the  sense  of  passing  events,  appeared  in  the 
midst,  rubbing  his  eyes  with  both  hands.  The  group 
gave  the  guest  godspeed,  the  dogs  wagged  their  tails. 
As  Harshaw  rode  out  of  the  inclosure,  the  vista  of  the 
room  seemed  some  brilliant  yellow  shaft  sunk  in  the  dense 
darkness.  And  then  he  could  see  nothing  :  the  rain  fell 
in  the  midst  of  the  black  night ;  he  felt  it  on  his  hands* 
his  face,  his  neck;  he  turned  up  the  collar  of  his  coat; 
he  heard  the  hoofs  of  his  mare  splashing  in  the  puddles, 
and  he  marveled  how  the  beast  could  see  or  follow  Jeb, 
who,  mounted  on  the  smaller  of  Marvin's  two  mules,  led 
the  way,  while  Marvin  himself  brought  up  the  rear.  He 
could  only  trust  to  the  superior  vision  of  the  animal,  and 
adjust  himself  to  the  motion  which  indicated  the  char- 
acter of  the  ground  they  traversed  :  now  through  tangles 
and  amongst  rocks ;  now  coming  almost  to  a  halt,  as  the 
mare  stepped  over  the  fallen  bole  of  a  tree ;  now  a  sud- 
den jump,  clearing  unseen  obstructions  :  now  down  hill, 
now  up ;  now  through  the  rushing  floods  of  a  mountain 
torrent.  Harshaw's  buoyant  mood  maintained  itself; 
his  bluff  voice  sounded  in  the  midst  of  the  dreary  rain- 
fall, and  his  resonant,  gurgling  laugh  over  and  again 
rang  along  the  dark,  wintry  fastnesses.  His  geniality 
was  communicated  to  the  other  men,  and  the  conver- 
sation carried  on  at  long  range  was  animated  and  ami- 
cable. 

"  I  wonder  what 's  become  of  those  scamps  I  was 


352  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

hunting  with,"  he  remarked.  "  I  just  know  that  shed 
of  pine  branches  they  fixed  has  leaked  on  'em  this  night. 
I  '11  bet  they  're  wallowin'  in  mud."  He  experienced  a 
certain  satisfaction  in  the  thought.  They  had  not  been 
so  badly  scared  as  he,  but  at  all  events  the  camp  hunters 
could  not  be  happy  under  these  circumstances. 

How  vast,  how  vast  was  the  wilderness !  Unseen,  it 
gave  an  impression  of  infinite  space.  The  wind  clashed 
the  bare  boughs  above  his  head.  The  pines  wailed  and 
groaned  aloud.  The  commotion  of  the  elements,  the 
many  subordinate,  undetermined  sounds,  the  weird, 
tumultuous  voices  of  the  forest,  rising  often  to  a  terrible 
climax,  had  a  mysterious,  overpowering  effect.  It  was 
a  relief  to  detect  a  familiar  note  in  the  turmoil,  even  if 
it  were  the  howl  of  a  wolf,  or  the  distant  crash  of  a  riven 
tree.  How  his  mare  plunged  and  floundered !  —  her 
head  and  neck  now  high  before  him,  till  he  almost  fell 
back  upon  her  haunches,  and  now  diving  down  so  low 
that  he  had  much  ado  to  keep  from  slipping  over  the 
pommel. 

"  Well,  Marvin,"  said  Harshaw,  once  more  on  level 
ground,  "  if  you  and  Jeb  will  come  down  to  my  farm  and 
visit  me,  I  '11  promise  you  one  thing,  —  I  won't  turn  you 
out  of  the  house  at  midnight  in  a  downpour  like  this  — 
ha!  ha!  ha!  Confound  you,  old  lady," — to  the  mare, 
as  she  stumbled,  —  "  stand  up,  can't  you  ?  " 

"  You-uns  ought  n't  ter  set  us  down  that-a-way,"  said 
Marvin,  grieved  at  the  reflection  on  his  hospitality. 

"Lord  A'mighty  !  "  exclaimed  "hongry  Jeb,"  —  his 
tones  from  out  of  the  darkness  were  vaguely  yearning, 
—  ;'  talkin'  ter  me  'bout  ever  kemin'  ter  see  ennybody 
at  thai-  farm !  Ye  mought  ez  well  ax  that  thar  wolf  ez 
we  -  uns  hearn  a  -  hollerin'  yander,  *  Jes'  kem  an'  set 
awhile,  Mister  Wolf,  an'  eat  supper  at  my  farm.'  I 
would  nrt  dare  no  mo'  ter  show  my  muzzle  in  the  settle- 
mints  'n  he  would  his'n.  The  law  'lows  both  o'  us  air 
pests  an'  cumberers  o'  the  groun',  an'  thar  's  a  price  on 
his  head  ez  well  ez  mine.  The  law  'lows  we  air  both 
murderers." 


IN   THE   CLOUDS.  353 

There  was  a  pause,  while  the  thud  of  the  horses'  hoofs 
was  barely  heard  on  the  dank,  soft  mould.  Then  the 
voice  of  "  hongry  Jeb  "  seemed  to  detach  itself  from 
kindred  dreary  voices  of  the  rain  and  the  winds  and  the 
woods,  and  become  articulate. 

"  That 's  edzac'ly  whar  it  hurts  my  feelins.  The  wolf 
air  enough  mo'  like  the  revenuers,  a-seekin'  who  they 
may  devour.  I  oughter  played  the  sheep,  I  reckon,  an* 
gin  'em  my  blood  stiddier  lead  ;  but  I  'm  human,  —  I  'm 
human,"  insistently.  "  An'  when  a  feller  with  a  pistol 
draws  a  bead  on  me,  I  jes'  naterally  whips  up  my  rifle 
an'  bangs  too.  An'  he  war  a  pore  shot  an'  I  war  a  good 
un,  an'  he  got  the  wust  o'  it." 

The  horses  surged  through  the  ford  of  an  invisible 
torrent,  stumbling  among  the  rolling  bowlders  and  strug- 
gling out  on  the  other  bank,  and  then  they  could  hear 
again  the  monotonous  falling  of  the  multitudinous  rain- 
drops ;  the  dreary  wind  took  up  its  refrain,  and  the 
melancholy  voice  of  Jeb  began  anew. 

"  'T  would  hev  been  self-defense,  ef  I  hed  n't  been 
engaged  in  a  unlawful  act,  preferrin'  ter  squeege  the 
juice  out'n  my  apples,  an'  bile  an'  sell  it,  'n  ter  let  'em 
rot  on  the  groun'.  I  war  a  fool.  I  lowed  the  apples 
war  mine.  Me  an'  my  dad  an'  my  gran'dad  hed  owned 
the  orchard  an'  the  Ian'  sence  the  Injun  went.  But 't 
war  n't  my  apples,  —  b'long  ter  the  governmint.  I  ain't 
never  shot  at  no  man  ez  did  n't  shoot  at  me  fust.  But 
't  ain't  self-defense  fur  me.  I  'm  got  ter  play  sheep." 

The  woful  tenor  of  this  discourse  seemed  to  anger 
Marvin  suddenly. 

"  Waal,  I  wish  ye  war  slartered  now  !  "  he  broke  out. 
"  I  'd  jes'  ez  lief  listen  ter  that  thar  wolf  conversin'  by  the 
hour.  What  ails  ye,  Jeb,  ter  git  set  a-goin'  so  all-fired 
lonesome  an'  doleful?" 

"  Lord,  nuthin',"  said  Jeb  amenably,  from  the  van  of 
the  procession.  "  I  ain't  lonesome  nor  doleful,  nuther. 
When  Mr.  Harshaw  'lowed  suthin'  'bout  my  kemin'  ter 
see  him  on  his  farm,  it  jes'  reminded  me  sorter  ez  when 
I  war  young,  afore  my  diiTunce  with  the  governmint,  I 


354  /jv  THE   CLOUDS. 

used  ter  be  a  powerful  lively  boy,  an'  knowed  plenty  o' 
folks,  an'  went  about  mightily,  —  never  lived  like  I  does 
now.  I  war  sorter  o'  a  vagrantin'  boy,  —  used  ter  con- 
sort with  boys  in  the  valley,  an'  they  'd  kem  up  ter  the 
cove  an'  bide  an'  go  huntin',  an'  I  'd  go  down  ter  thar 
farms  ;  an'  that 's  how  it  kem  I  knowed  whar  ye  live  on 
Owel  Creek.  Powerful  good  land  some  of  it  air,  —  mel- 
low, rich  sile ;  some  cherty  hillsides,  though.  None  o' 
them  boys  hev  turned  out  like  me.  Why,  I  used  ter 
know  Jeemes  Gwinnan  ez  well  ez  the  road  ter  mill,  an' 
Jim  's  a  jedge  a-gracin'  the  bench,  an'  I  'm  —  a  wolf !  " 

Harshaw  experienced  a  sudden  quickening  of  interest. 
"  You  knew  Gwinnan  ?  " 

"  Lord,  yes ;  ez  well  ez  the  bark  knows  the  tree. 
Jeemes  war  a  fine  shot,  an'  he  liked  huntin'  fust-rate. 
He  hed  n't  his  health  very  well,  an'  his  mother,  bein'  a 
widder-woman,  war  more  'n  naterally  foolish  'bout'n  him, 
an'  war  always  lookin'  fur  him  ter  die.  So  she  'd  keep 
him  out'n  doors  ez  well  ez  she  could.  But  he  'd  kerry 
his  book  along,  an'  read,  'thout  he  war  a-huntin'.  So 
she  let  him  kem  whenst  he  \var  jes'  a  boy,  an'  go  huntin' 
in  the  mountings  along  o'  the  men  growed.  An'  it  done 
him  good.  He  war  ez  fine  a  shot  ez  I  ever  see." 

A  wonderful  thing  was  happening  in  the  woods,  — the 
familiar  miracle  of  dawn.  The  vast  forests  were  slowly 
asserting  dim  outlines  of  bole  and  branch,  lodgment  for 
the  mist  which  clothed  them  in  light  and  fleecy  illusions 
of  foliage.  A  gray  revelation  of  light,  rather  the  sheer 
values  of  distinctness  than  a  realized  medium,  was  un- 
folding before  the  eye.  The  serried  slants  of  rain  fell 
at  wider  intervals;  and  the  equestrian  form  of  Jeb  be- 
came visible,  —  lank,  lean,  soaked  with  rain,  his  old 
white  hat  shedding  the  water  from  its  brim  in  rivulets 
upon  his  straight  and  straggling  hair.  As  he  jogged 
along  on  the  little  mule,  \vhose  long  ears  seemed  alter- 
nately to  whisk  off  the  shades  of  night,  he  seemed  a  for- 
lornly inadequate  individual  to  have  had  a  u  diff'unce 
with  the  governmint." 

u  Jim  's  what  reminded  me  of  how  I  war  fixed  in  life,' 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  355 

he  went  on,  more  cheerfully.  "  An'  this  hyar  whole  trip 
air  what  reminded  me  o'  Jim.  I  guided  him  —  mus' 
hev  been  fourteen  year  ago,  or  mo'  —  through  jes'  sech 
a  rainy  night  ez  this,  an'  through  these  hyar  very  woods 

—  naw,  sir  !  more  towards  the  peak  o'  Thunderhead." 

"  I  dunno  ez  ye  hev  got  enny  call  ter  be  so  durned 
pertic'lar  'bout  the  percise  spot,"  said  Marvin,  signifi- 
cantly. 

"  That 's  a  fac',''  said  Jeb,  good-naturedly.  "  I  guided 
him  through  the  mountings  an'  over  the  line  inter  the 
old  North  State." 

"  What  in  hell  did  he  want  to  go  there  for,  in  the  rain 
and  the  dead  of  the  night  ? "  asked  Harshaw.  His 
breath  was  quick ;  he  felt  that  he  panted  on  the  brink  of 
a  discovery.  Now  plunge  ! 

"  'Kase,  stranger,  he  war  obleeged  ter,  sorter  like  you- 
uns,"  said  Jeb  enigmatically. 

He  looked  back  over  his  shoulder,  with  perhaps  some 
stirring  doubt,  some  vague  suspicion,  at  the  man  who  fol- 
lowed ;  but  Harshaw,  now  lifting  a  hand  to  thrust  a 
branch  from  across  the  path,  now  adjusting  the  bridle 
about  the  mare's  head,  seemed  so  careless,  so  casual,  in 
his  curiosity  that  Jeb  was  reassured  as  to  the  innocuous- 
ness  of  his  gossip,  and  went  on. 

"  Ye  see,  them  fellers  he  consorted  with  —  huntin',  an* 
a-pitchin'  o'  quates,  an'  a-foot-racm',  an'  sech  —  war 
mostly  powerful  servigrus,  gamesome  folks ;  an'  some  o' 
'em  war  gin  ter  toler'ble  wild  ways,  an'  Jeemes  —  his 
mother  never  keered  much  what  he  done,  so  ez  he  'd  quit 
stickin'  so  all-fired  constant  ter  his  law-books,  'kase  he 
war  a-studyin'  law  by  that  time  in  old  Squair  Dinks's 
law-office  in  Colbury  —  he  war  'bout  twenty-two  year  old 

—  he  war  mixed  up  in  a  deal  o'  them  goin's-on.     An' 
from  one  little  thing  an'  another  he  hed   some  ill-will 
started    agin    him  wunst   in   a  while.      Him    an'    Eph 
Saunders  hed  a  fallin'-out  wunst.     Eph  war 'a  tremen- 
jious  strong  man,  an'  he  kep'  flingin'  words  at  Jeemes. 
Sence  Jeemes  hed  tuk  ter  studyin'  o'  law  an'  sech,  an' 
'peared  right  hearty,  he  tuk  up  with  town  ways  power- 


356  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

ful,  an'  went  ter  meet'n  a-Sunday  nights,  escortin'  the 
gals,  an'  dressed  hisself  like  a  plumb  peacock.  An' 
whenst  Eph  'tended  circus  in  Colbury  he  met  up  with 
Jeemes,  who  hed  a  lot  o'  his  gal  cousins  along.  An'  Eph 
war  drunk,  an'  Jim  gin  him  a  push  aside,  an'  Eph,  he 
fell  on  the  groun'.  Waal,  sir,  it  like  ter  killed  Eph,  — 
ter  be  knocked  down  by  a  man  o'  Jeemes's  weight !  Jim 
could  n't  hev  done  it  ef  Eph  hed  n't  been  drunk.  Eph 
jes'  mourned  like  Samson  arter  his  hair  war  cut  off. 
Ye  'd  hev  'lowed  he  war  cfe-sgraced  fur  life  !  An',  like 
Samson,  he  war  n't  a-goin'  ter  bide  stopped  off  an'  done 
fur.  He  kep'  a-sendin'  all  sorts  o'  words  ter  Jeemes ; 
an'  ez  Jeemes  never  wanted  no  fuss  with  Eph,  he  kep' 
out'n  his  way  for  a  while.  An'  Eph,  he  'lowed  ez  Jim 
war  afeard  an'  a-hidin'.  Waal,  sir,  that  hustled  up 
Jeemes's  feelins  mightily.  He  jes'  wanted  ter  keep 
out'n  his  mother's  hearin',  though ;  she  war  a  powerful 
chicken  -  hearted,  floppy  kind  o'  woman,  —  skeered  at 
everything.  Then  Jeemes,  he  sent  Eph  word  ez  he  war 
n't  a-goin'  ter  be  beat  inter  a  jelly  fur  nuthin'  by  a  man 
twict  his  size  ;  but  he  war  a-kemin'  up  ter  settle  him  with 
his  rifle.  An'  Eph,  he  sent  word  he  'd  meet  him  at  the 
big  Sulphur  Spring,  thar  on  that  spur  o'  the  mounting 
nigh  Gran'dad's  Creek.  Ef  Jeemes  so  much  ez  dared 
ter  cross  the  foot-bredge  over  Gran'dad's  Creek,  an'  set 
his  foot  on  the  t'other  side,  Eph  swore  he  'd  shoot  him 
dead.  An'  Eph,  he  sent  word  ter  come  Chewsday  an 
hour  by  sun,  an'  bring  his  friends  ter  see  fair  play." 

"  Laws-a-massy  ! "  exclaimed  Marvin,  in  the  fervor  of 
reminiscence,  "  I  kin  jes'  see  that  thar  spot,  —  that  thai- 
old  foot-bredge  in  the  woods,  an'  the  water  high  enough 
ter  lap  the  under  side  o'  the  log ;  't  war  hewn  a-top,  an' 
made  toler'ble  level  footin'.  An'  me  an'  Jeb  dodgin'  in 
the  laurel,  fur  fear  Eph  would  shoot  'fore  Jeemes  crost." 

"Jeemes  seemed  toler'ble  long  a-crossin',''  Jeb  re- 
sumed, —  "I  'member  that ;  an'  he  stopped  at  the  fur- 
der  eend,  an'  lifted  his  rifle  ter  his  shoulder  ter  be  ready 
ter  shoot.  An'  thar  stood  Eph,  a-sightin'  him  keerful 
ez  he  kem  "  — 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  357 

"  You  were  both  there  ?  "  said  Harshaw,  hastily. 

"  Lord,  yes,"  said  Jeb.  "  Jeemes  hed  stayed  at  my 
dad's  house  the  night  afore.  An'  he  never  brung  none 
o'  his  town  friends,  —  afeard  o'  word  gittin'  ter  his 
mother.  So  me  an'  Sam,  —  Sam,  he  lived  nigh  me,  — 
we-uns  went  along." 

"Did  he  kill  Eph.?"  demanded  Harshaw,  the  query 
swift  with  the  momentum  of  the  wish. 

"Waal,  not  edzac'ly,"  drawled  Jeb.  "That's  whar 
the  funny  part  kem  in.  Eph,  he  knowed  ef  Jeemes  shot 
fust  he  war  a  dead  man,  —  mighty  few  sech  shots  ez 
Jeemes,  —  but  he  war  n't  a-goin'  ter  murder  him  by 
shootin'  him  afore  he  put  his  foot  on  the  groun'  an'  tuk 
up  the  dare.  So  he  waited,  an'  Jeemes  stopped  short 
right  at  the  aidge  o'  the  bredge." 

"  Lord,  I  'members  how  he  looked !  "  cried  Marvin. 
"  He  had  tuk  off  his  coat  an'  vest,  though  we-uns  hed 
tole  him  that  thar  b'iled  shirt  o'  his'n  war  a  good  mark 
for.  Eph,  ez  looked  jes'  the  color  o'  the  clay  bank  a-hint 
him,  in  them  brown  jeans  clothes.  Jim's  straw  hat  war 
drawn  down  over  his  eyes ;  he  war  jes'  about  the  build 
o'  his  ramrod,  —  slimmest,  stringiest  boy  !  —  ez  delikit- 
lookin'  ez  a  gal.  One  thing  Eph  called  him,  ez  riled  him 
wuss  'n  all,  war  '  Miss  Polly.'  " 

"  He  hev  widened  out  mightily  sence  then,  though  he 
ain't  got  no  fat  ter  spare  yit,"  put  in  Jeb. 

"An'  then,  sucldmt,"  resumed  Marvin,  "he  jes' 
stepped  his  foot  right  on  the  groun'.  In  that  very 
minute  Eph's  gun  flashed.  An'  I  seen  Jeemes  standin' 
thar,  still  sightin'.  An'  then  Eph,  he  drapped  his  gun, 
an'  held  his  hands  afore  his  face,  an'  yelled  out,  '  Shoot, 
ef  ye  air  a-goin'  ter  shoot !  I  ain't  a-goin'  ter  stan'  hyar 
no  longer.'  An'  Jeemes,  he  looked  ez  scornful  "  — 

"  I  never  seen  a  boy's  looks  with  sech  a  cuttin'  aidge 
ter  'em,"  interpolated  Jeb. 

"An'  Jeemes,  he  say,  'I  ain't  a-wastin'  powder  ter- 
day.  I  never  'lowed  ez  skunks  war  game.'  An'  he 
drapped  his  gun." 

"  Yes  sir  !  "  exclaimed  Jeb,  "  he  jes'  hed  that  much 


358  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

grit,  —  ter  stan'  up  ez  a  shootin'  mark  fur  Eph  Saun- 
ders,  an'  prove  he  war  n't  afeard  o'  nothin'.  He  did 
sir !  " 

"  Why,  look  here,  my  good  friends  !  "  cried  the 
lawyer.  "That  was  a  duel.  It  was  a  cool,  premedi- 
tated affair.  They  met  by  previous  appointment,  and 
fought  with  deadly  weapons  and  with  witnesses.  It  was 
a  duel." 

'•  Mehbe  so,"  said  Jeb,  indifferently  and  uncompre- 
hendingly.  "  I  call  it  clean  grit." 

"  Waal,"  went  on  Marvin,  "  I  run  across  the  bredge 
lookin'  fur  Eph's  bullet.  I  said,  '  Whar  'd  it  go  ?  '  An' 
by  that  time  Eph  an'  them  low  down  Kitwin  boys  war 
slinkin'  off.  An'  sez  Jeemes,  '  Don't  let  'em  know  it. 
I  don't  want  my  mother  ter  hear  'bout  it.  She  air 
fibble  an'  gittin'  old.'  An'  thar  I  seen  the  breast  o'  his 
shirt  war  slow  a-spottin'  with  blood.  Waal,  sir,  that 's 
how  kern  me  an'  Jeb  an'  him  rid  over  the  mountings 
inter  North  Car'lina,  whar  he  hed  some  kinsfolks  livin' 
'mongst  the  hills." 

"  Ye  see,"  —  Jeb  again  took  up  his  testimony,  - — "  he 
did  n't  want  the  news  ter  git  ter  his  mother  afore  he  got 
well,  'kase  he  war  delikit,  an'  she  war  always  a-lookin' 
fur  him  ter  die ;  an'  Eph  never  knowed  Jim  war  shot, 
an'  could  n't  kerry  the  tale  down  ter  Colbury.  Waal, 
we-uns  war  all  young  an'  toler'ble  bouncin'  fools,  I  tell 
ye,  an'  we  sorter  got  light  on  that  fac'  whenst  we-uns  sot 
out  ter  ride  with  a  man  with  a  gun-shot  wound  —  I  fur- 
gits  'zac'ly  whar  the  doctor  say  the  bullet  went  in  — 
miles  an'  miles  through  the  mountings  ;  an'  the  dark 
kern  on  an'  the  rain  kem  down,  an'  Jeemes  got  out'n  his 
head.  An'  this  ride  with  you-uns  air  what  reminded 
me  o'  it." 

"  I  ain't  out  of  my  head  !  "  cried  Harshaw,  with 
covert  meaning.  "  You  bet  your  immortal  soul  on 
that !  " 

"  Naw,"  —  Jeb  admitted  the  discrepancy,  —  "  but  the 
rain,  an'  the  ride,  an'  the  mountings,  an'  the  darksome- 
ness." 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  359 

"  Lord !  a  body  would  n't  hev  b'lieved  how  Jeemes's 
pride  war  hurt  ter  be  called  afeard  !  "  exclaimed  Marvin. 
u  I  'low  he  'd  hev  let  Eph  chop  him  up  in  minch  meat 
ter  prove  he  war  n't.  He  air  prouder  of  hisself  'n  enny 
man  I  ever  see.  Thar 's  whar  his  soul  is  —  in  his  pride." 

"  I  'm  glad  ter  hear  it,"  said  Harshaw,  so  definitely 
referring  to  an  occult  interpretation  of  his  own  that  the 
old  white  hat,  bobbing  along  in  front  of  him,  turned 
slowly,  and  he  saw  the  lank,  cadaverous  face  below  it, 
outlined  with  its  limp  wisps  of  black  hair  against  the 
nebulous  vapors.  So  strong  an  expression  of  surprise 
did  Jeb's  features  wear  that  Harshaw  hastily  added,  "  A 
man  that  ain't  got  any  pride  ain't  worth  anything." 

"  Ef  he  hev  got  enny  thing  ter  be  proud  of,"  stipulated 
melancholy  Jeb. 

The  day  had  fully  dawned ;  the  rain,  the  mists,  the 
looming  forests,  had  acquired  a  dull  verity  in  the  stead 
of  the  vague,  illusory  shadows  they  had  been.  Never- 
theless, the  muddy  banks  of  the  creek  down  which  the 
mare  slided,  her  legs  rigid  as  iron ;  the  obstructions  of 
the  ford,  —  rocks,  fallen  limbs  of  trees,  floating  or  en- 
tangled in  intricacies  of  overhanging  bushes,  —  were  all 
rendered  more  difficult,  for  Harshaw  mechanically  con- 
trolled the  reins  instead  of  trusting  to  the  mare's  in- 
stinct ;  as  he  sawed  on  the  bit,  while  she  threw  back  her 
head,  foaming  at  the  mouth,  he  brought  her  to  her  knees 
in  the  midst  of  the  stream.  The  water  surged  up  about 
the  great  boots  which  he  wore  drawn  over  his  trousers  to 
the  knee,  and  the  mare  regained  her  footing  with  snort- 
ing difficulty.  There  were  no  expletives,  and  Jeb  looked 
back  in  renewed  surprise. 

"Ye  mus'  be  studyin'  powerful  hard,  stranger,"  he 
commented,  "  not  ter  hev  seen  that  thar  bowlder." 

"  Yer  beastis  war  a-goin'  ter  take  slanchwise  across 
the  ruver  whar  thar  war  n't  nuthin'  ter  hender,  till  ye 
in  an'  about  pulled  the  jaw  off'n  her,"  Marvin  said,  as 
Harshaw  pushed  through  the  swollen  flood  and  up  the 
opposite  bank.  His  flushed  face  was  grave ;  his  eyes 
were  intent ;  he  rode  along  silently.  He  was  indeed 
thinking. 


360  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

He  was  thinking  that  if  what  they  had  told  him  were 
true  —  and  how  could  he  doubt  it  ?  —  Gwinnan  in  tak- 
ing the  official  oath  had  committed  perjury  ;  he  was  dis- 
qualified for  the  judicial  office,  and  liable  to  impeach- 
ment. Harshaw  was  vaguely  repeating  to  himself  and 
trying  to  remember  the  phraseology  of  the  anti-dueling 
oath  exacted  of  every  office-holder  in  the  State  of  Ten- 
nessee, —  an  oath  that  he  had  not  directly  or  indirectly 
given  or  accepted  a  challenge  since  the  adoption  of  the 
Constitution  of  1835. 

Under  what  pretext,  what  secret  reservation  or  eva- 
sion, had  Gwinnan  been  able  to  evade  this  solemn  decla- 
ration ?  Or  had  he  adopted  the  simple  expedient  of 
swallowing  it  whole  ?  Harshaw  wondered,  remember- 
ing all  the  acerbities  of  Gwinnan's  canvass  and  election, 
that  the  old  story  had  not  before  come  to  light.  But  it 
was  a  section  of  frequent  feuds  and  bloody  collisions,  the 
subject  was  trite  and  unsuggestive,  and  the  details  of  an 
old  fight  might  seem  to  promise  no  novel  developments. 
How  odd  that  he,  of  all  men,  should  stumble  on  it,  in 
view  of  its  most  signal  significance ! 

Auxiliary  facts  pressed  upon  his  attention.  Nothing 
that  could  be  now  urged  against  an  official  was  so  preju- 
dicial as  the  crime  of  dueling.  The  episode  of  Kinsard's 
boyish  demonstration  attested  the  temper  of  the  public. 
With  much  difficulty  had  his  friends  shielded  him  by  its 
ambiguity  ;  and  indeed  only  because  it  was  a  meaning- 
less folly,  without  intention  or  result,  had  it  proved  in- 
nocuous. Even  Kinsard,  fire-eater  as  he  was,  had  been 
forced  to  accept  their  interpretations  of  its  harmless  in- 
tent, and  to  subside  under  the  frown  of  public  displeas- 
ure. The  more  lenient  members  of  the  House  had  had 
cause  to  regret  their  clemency,  the  disapproval  of  their 
constituents  being  expressed  in  no  measured  manner  by 
the  local  journals.  But  no  ambiguity  was  here  ;  this 
was  the  accomplished  fact,  this  the  clue  that  long  he  had 
sought.  Even  if  the  House  should  decline  to  act  in  the 
matter,  Gwinnan  could  be  removed  by  judicial  proceed- 
ings. He  would  think  it  out  at  his  leisure.  How  lucky, 
how  lucky  was  this  ride  ! 


/AT  THE  CLOUDS.  361 

The  rain  had  ceased  at  last.  They  were  among  the 
minor  ridges  that  lie  about  the  base  of  the  Great  Smoky. 
They  had  ridden  many  a  mile  out  of  their  way,  —  Har- 
shaw  could  not  say  in  what  direction,  —  so  that  he  might 
not  easily  retrace  his  steps.  The  mists  still  hung  about 
them  when  they  turned  from  the  almost  imperceptible 
path,  which  Jeb  had  followed  with  some  keen  instinct  or 
memory,  into  a  road,  —  a  rough  wagon  track.  Bushes 
were  growing  in  its  midst,  bowlders  lay  here  and  there  ; 
its  chief  claim  to  identification  as  a  highway  being  its 
occasional '  mud-puddles,  of  appalling  depth  and  magni- 
tude, and  its  red  clay  mire,  fetlock  deep  at  least. 

Harshaw  roused  himself  suddenly,  as  the  two  moon- 
shiners intimated  their  intention  of  parting  company 
with  him. 

"  Thar 's  yer  way,  stranger,"  said  Marvin,  pausing  on 
the  rise  and  pointing  down  the  road.  It  was  visible 
only  a  few  rods  in  the  mist,  dreary  and  deserted,  with 
deep  ditches,  heavily  washed  by  the  rain,  on  either 
hand  ;  it  might  seem  to  lead  to  no  fair  spaces,  no  favored 
destination  where  one  might  hope  to  be.  But  Harshaw 
drew  up  his  mare,  and  gazed  along  it  with  kindling  eyes. 
His  felt  hat  drooped  in  picturesque  curves  about  his 
dense  yellow  hair,  soaked  like  his  beard,  to  a  darker 
hue.  His  closely  buttoned  coat  had  a  military  sugges- 
tion. His  heavy  figure  was  imposing  on  horseback.  He 
flushed  with  sudden  elation.  Alack  !  he  saw  more 
trooping  down  that  prosaic  dirt  road  than  the  mist, 
hastily  scurrying ;  than  the  progress  of  the  wind  in  the 
swaying  of  the  stunted  cedars,  clinging  to  the  gashed 
and  gully-washed  embankments ;  than  the  last  trickling 
stragglers  of  the  storm. 

He  did  not  notice,  or  he  did  not  care,  that  the  two 
men  had  remarked  his  silence,  his  evident  absorption. 
He  glanced  cursorily  at  them,  as  they  sat  regarding  him, 
—  one  on  the  little  lank  mule,  his  partner  on  the  big 
lean  one,  both  drenched,  and  forlorn,  and  poverty- 
stricken,  and  humble  of  aspect.  The  politician's  mare, 
perhaps  recognizing  the  road  down  into  Kildeer  County, 


362  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

where  she  had  spent  the  first  frisky  years  of  her  toil- 
some pilgrimage,  showed  a  new  spirit,  and  caracoled  as 
Harshaw  rode  up  to  the  two  men  to  offer  his  hand. 

"  Farewell,  stranger,"  they  said ;  and  in  the  old- 
fashioned  phrase  of  the  primitive  Plain  People,  "  Fare- 
well," he  replied. 

They  stood  looking  after  him,  hardly  understanding 
what  they  lacked,  what  they  had  expected,  as  the  mare, 
with  a  mincing,  youthful  freshness,  cantered  a  little  way 
along  the  grassy  margin  of  the  road,  above  the  rivulets 
in  the  ditches,  surging  twelve  or  fourteen  feet  below. 

Presently  Harshaw  paused,  yet  unobscured  by  the 
mist  which  had  gathered  about  him,  and  glanced  over 
his  shoulder,  —  not  to  thank  them  for  such  aid  and 
comfort  as  they  had  given  him. 

'•  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  a  little  ill  at  ease  because  of 
the  restive  mare,  ';  I  must  thank  you  for  the  story  you 
told  me.  You  don't  know  how  much  good  it  did  me. 
A  pretty  little  story,  with  a  pretty  little  hero.  A  very 
pretty  little  story,  indeed." 

He  bent  his  roseate,  dimpled  smile  upon  them,  and 
waved  his  hand  satirically  ;  with  a  bound  the  mare  dis- 
appeared in  the  mist,  leaving  the  grave,  saturnine  moun- 
taineers staring  after  him,  and  listening  to  the  measured 
hoof-beat  of  his  invisible  progress  till  it  died  in  the  dis- 
tance. 

Then  they  looked  at  each  other. 

"  Sam,"  said  Jeb,  when  they  had  turned  again  into 
their  fastnesses,  where  they  could  ride  only  in  single  file, 
"  I  dun.no  ef  we-uns  done  right  las'  night.  This  worl' 
would  be  healthier  ef  that  man  war  out'n  it." 

"  I  ain't  misdoubtin'  that  none,"  replied  Marvin. 
"  'Peared  ter  me  powerful  comical,  the  way  he  took  off 
down  the  road,  an'  I  ain't  able  ter  study  out  yit  what 
he  meant.  My  gran'mam  always  lowed  ez  them  ez 
talks  in  riddles  larnt  thar  speech  o'  the  devil,  him  bein' 
the  deceivin'  one.  But  't  war  n't  healthy  fur  we-uns  ter 
kill  him,  even  ef  we  could  hev  agreed  ter  do  it.  I 
reckon  them  hunters  would  hev  tracked  him.  An'  I 
don't  b'lieve  he  war  no  spy  nor  sech." 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  363 

"  Nor  me  nuther,"  said  "  hongry  Jeb,"  well  enough 
satisfied  with  the  termination  of  the  adventure,  "  though 
I  ain't  likin'  him  now  ez  well  ez  I  done  a-fust." 

They  liked  him  still  less,  and  all  their  old  suspicions 
returned  with  redoubled  force,  upon  reaching  home, 
when  the  afternoon  was  well  advanced.  For  no  hunters 
had  yet  appeared,  and  the  lurking  moonshiners,  becom- 
ing surprised  because  of  this,  had  tracked  Harshaw's 
way  to  the  house  by  the  broken  brush,  the  hairs  from 
the  mane  and  tail  of  the  mare,  a  bit  of  his  coat  clutched 
off  by  the  briers,  the  plain  prints  of  the  mare's  hoofs 
along  a  sandy  stretch  protected  from  the  rain  by  the 
beetling  ledges  of  a  crag.  There  were  many  oak-trees 
along  this  path,  —  not  one  blazed  by  a  hunting-knife. 
They  understood  at  last  his  clever  lie.  And  Marvin 
upbraided  M'ria :  — 

"Thar  air  more  constancy  in  the  ways  o'  the  wind, 
an'  mo'  chance  o'  countin'  on  'em,  'n  that  thar  woman. 
Fust  he  mus'  be  dragged  out  straight  an'  kilt,  —  flunged 
off 'n  the  bluff,  —  else  we-uns  would  all  go  ter  jail,  an' 
Philetus  be  lef  ter  starve  'mongst  the  painters,  ez  would 
n't  keep  him  comp'ny,  but  would  eat  him  up.  Then 
when  the  man  limbered  his  jaw  an'  sot  out  ter  lyin',  she 
gits  so  all-fired  skeered,  she  hed  breakfus'  cooked  for 
we-uns  ter  journey  'fore  I  could  sati'fy  my  mind  'bout 
nuthin'.  Ef  the  truth  war  knowed,  we  'd  all  be  safer  ef 
M'ria  were  flunged  over  the  bluff." 

And  Maria,  staring  at  the  line  of  oak-trees,  all  undes- 
ecrated  by  the  knife,  could  not  gainsay  it. 

She  could  only  wring  her  hands,  and  rock  herself  to 
and  fro,  and  revolve  her  troublous  fears,  and  grow  yet 
more  wan  and  gaunt  with  her  prescient  woes  for  them 
all  —  and  for  Philetus. 


XXV. 

Ox  the  second  day  of  February,  the  ground-hog,  true 
to  his  traditions,  emerged  from  his  hole,  and  looked 
about  him  cautiously  for  his  shadow.  Fortunately,  it  was 
not  in  attendance.  And  by  this  token  the  spring  was 
early,  and  all  the  chill  rains,  and  late  frosts,  and  un- 
propitious  winds,  and  concomitant  calamities,  that  might 
have  ensued  had  he  found  his  ill-omened  shadow  await- 
ing him,  were  escaped.  It  was  not  long  afterward  that 
small  protuberances  appeared  on  every  twig  and  wand 
and  branch,  although  the  trees  had  not  budded  save  in 
these  promissory  intimations.  The  sap  was  stirring. 
The  dead  world  was  quickened  again.  That  beautiful 
symbolism  of  the  miracle  of  resurrection  was  daily  pre- 
sented in  the  re-awakening,  in  the  rising  anew  of  the 
spring.  So  pensively  gladsome  it  was,  so  gently  ap- 
proaching, with  such  soft  and  subtle  languors  !  The 
sky  was  blue  ;  the  clouds  how  light,  how  closely  akin 
to  the  fleecy  mists  !  Sheep  -  bells  were  tinkling  —  for 
what !  the  pastures  were  already  green  !  And  here  and 
there  a  peach-tree  beside  a  rail-fence  burst  forth  in  a 
cloud  of  blossoms  so  exquisitely  petaled,  so  delicately 
roseate,  that  only  some  fine  ethereal  vagary  of  the  sunset 
might  rival  the  tint.  Sometimes  among  the  still  leafless 
mountains  these  pink  graces  of  color  would  appear,  be- 
tokening the  peach  orchard  of  some  hidden  little  hut, 
its  existence  only  thus  attested.  The  Scolacutta  River 
was  affluent  with  the  spring  floods :  a  wild,  errant 
stream  this,  with  many  a  wanton  freak,  with  a  weakness 
for  carrying  off  its  neighbor's  rails ;  for  snatching  huge 
slices  of  land  from  the  banks  ;  for  breaking  off  trees 
and  bushes,  and  whirling  them  helplessly  down  its  cur- 
rent, tossing  and  teetering  in  a  frantic,  unwilling  dance. 
Many  a  joke  had  it  played  before  and  since  the  disaster 


7.V  THE   CLOUDS.  365 

to  old  Griff's  mill.  The  sunbeams  might  seem  the 
strings  of  a  harp  ;  whenever  touched  by  a  wing  they 
were  quivering  and  thrilling  with  songs.  Slow  wreath- 
ing blue  smoke  curled  in  fields  here  and  there  where 
the  fires  of  rubbish  blazed  ;  sometimes  a  stump  would 
burn  sullenly  all  night  and  char  slowly,  and  with  a  puff 
of  wind  burst  anew  into  flames.  The  soft  lustres  of  the 
Pleiades  and  the  fiery  Aldebaran  were  resplendent  in 
the  heavens,  and  the  moon  was  the  paschal  moon.  A 
vernal  thrill  had  blessed  the  wild  cherry,  and  it  gave  out 
its  glad  incense.  For  miles  and  miles  the  exquisite  fra- 
grance from  its  vast  growths  on  the  mountain-side  per- 
vaded the  air.  And  presently  the  mountain-side  wore 
the  tender  verdure  of  budding  leaves,  and  even  the 
gloomy  pines  were  tipped  with  new  tufts  of  vivid  green, 
unlike  their  sombre  hue ;  and  here  and  there  crags 
flaunted  a  bourgeoning  vine,  and  the  wild  ivy  crept  on 
the  ground  where  the  wood  violet  bloomed.  All  day 
the  ploughs  turned  the  furrow,  and  the  air  echoed  with 
the  calls  "  gee,  haw  "  to  the  slow  oxen. 

And  Mrs.  Purvine  was  greatly  distraught  in  the  effort 
to  remember  exactly  where  she  had  stowed  away  certain 
bags  of  seed  necessary,  in  view  of  their  best  interests,  to 
be  sown  in  the  light  of  the  moon. 

Her  sun-bonnet  was  all  awry,  her  face  wrinkled  and 
anxious  with  the  cares  of  the  spring-tide  "  gyarden  spot," 
her  gestures  laborious  and  weary,  as  she  sat  on  her  porch, 
the  lap  of  her  ample  apron  filled  with  small  calico  bags, 
each  of  which  seemed  to  have  a  constitutional  defect  in 
its  draw-string ;  for  when  found  closed  it  would  not  open, 
and  if  by  chance  open  it  would  not  close.  There  was  a 
sort  of  shelf  in  lieu  of  balustrade  against  the  posts  of  the 
porch,  and  on  this  were  placed  two  or  three  pieces  of  old 
crockery,  —  providentially  broken  into  shapes  that  the 
ingenious  could  utilize,  —  in  which  seeds  were  immersed 
in  water,  that  they  might  swell  in  the  night,  and  thus 
enter  the  ground  prepared  to  swiftly  germinate.  One  of 
these  broken  dishes  stood  on  the  floor  at  her  feet,  and  a 
graceless  young  rooster,  that  had  the  air  of  loafing  about 


366  7^V  THE   CLOUDS. 

the  steps,  approached  by  unperceived  degrees,  picked  up 
several  of  the  seed,  and  was  quenching  his  thirst,  when 
spied  by  Mrs.  Purvine,  who  was  viciously  pulling  the 
strings  of  a  recalcitrant  bag. 

"  In  the  name  o'  Moses !  "  she  adjured  him  so  sol- 
emnly that  the  rooster  stopped  and  looked  at  her  expect- 
antly. "  I  'm  in  an'  about  minded  ter  cut  them  dish-rag- 
gourd  seed  out'n  yer  craw,  ye  great,  big,  ten-toed  sinner, 
you !  Ye  need  n't  turn  yer  head  up  'twixt  every  sup, 
—  so  thankful  ter  the  Lord  fur  water.  Ye  '11  find  mo' 
water  in  the  pot  'n  that.  A-swallerin'  them  few  dish-rag- 
gourd  seed  ez  nimble  an'  onconsarned,  an'  me  jes'  a- 
chasin'  an'  a-racin'  an'  wore  ter  the  bone  ter  find  some 
mo'  !  Ye  'd  better  leave  'em  be." 

The  rooster,  hardly  comprehending  the  words,  was 
about  to  again  sample  the  delicacy,  when  aunt  Dely, 
stamping  to  startle  him,  inadvertently  overturned  the  dish 
and  the  seed  on  the  floor.  The  fowl  scuttled  off,  look- 
ing askance  at  the  ruin,  and  the  water  dripped  through 
the  cracks  of  the  puncheon  floor. 

So  absorbed  had  she  been  that  she  had  not  observed  an 
approach,  and  Alethea  was  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  when 
she  lifted  her  eyes. 

"  Hyar  I  be,  aunt  Dely,"  said  the  girl,  noticing  Mrs. 
Purvine's  occupation  with  a  surprise  that  seemed  hardly 
warranted,  and  speaking  in  a  breathless,  eager  way. 
"  Air  you-uns  feelin'  enny  better  ?  " 

For  once  in  her  life  the  crafty  Mrs.  Purvine  was  em- 
barrassed ;  to  conceal  her  confusion,  she  engaged  in  a 
strenuous  struggle  with  one  of  the  bags  of  seed. 

"  I  feel  toler'ble  well,"she  said  at  last,  gruffly. 

"Waal !  "  exclaimed  Alethea,  in  amazement.  "  From 
the  word  Ben  Doaks  brung  ter  Wild-Cat  Hollow,  ez  he 
war  drivin'  up  some  steers  ter  the  bald  o'  the  mounting, 
we-uns  'lowed  ez  ye  lied  been  tuk  awful  sick,  an'  war  like 
ter  die." 

"  I  sent  ye  that  word,"  said  Mrs.  Purvine  with  admi- 
rable effrontery.  "  I  knowed  thar  war  n't  no  other  way 
ter  git  ye  down  hyar.  When  hev  ye  hed  the  perliteness 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  367 

ter  fetch  them  bones  o'  yourn  hyar  afore  ?  "     She  looked 
over  her  spectacles  with  angry  reproach  at  the  girl. 

"  Waal,  aunt  Dely,"  said  Alethea  in  her  dulcet,  mol- 
lifying drawl,  sitting  down  on  the  step  as  she  talked,  "  ye 
know  I  hev  hed  ter  do  so  much  o'  the  ploughin'  an'  sech, 
a-puttin'  in  o'  our  craps.  We-uns  hev  got  sech  a  lot  o' 
folks  up  ter  our  house.  An'  I  dunno  when  Jacob  Jessup 
hev  done  less  work  'n  he  hev  this  spring." 

"  Thought  ye  be  always  lowin'  ye  ain't  lay  in'  off  ter 
do  his  work,"  said  the  elder  tartly. 

"  Waal,"  rejoined  Alethea  wearily,  "  I  don't  'pear  ter 
hev  the  grit  ter  hold  out  an'  quar'l  over  it,  like  I  used  ter 
do.  I  reckon  my  sperit  's  a-gittin'  bruk ;  but  I  don't 
mind  workin'  off  in  the  field,  'thout  no  jawin',  whar  I  kin 
keep  comp'ny  with  my  thoughts." 

"  I  would  n't  want  ter  keep  comp'ny  with  'em,"  said 
aunt  Dely  cavalierly.  "  I  '11  be  bound  they  air  heavier 
ter  foller  'n  the  plough.  Mighty  solemn,  low-sperited 
thoughts  fur  a  spry  young  gal  like  you-uns  !  Ef  yer  head 
could  be  turned  inside  out,  thar  ain't  nobody  ez  would  n't 
'low  it  mus'  outside  be  gray.  They  'd  say,  *  In  the  name 
o'  Moses  !  old  ez  this  inside,  an'  yaller  outside  !  'T  ain't 
natnr' ! ' ' 

The  girl  had  taken  off  her  bonnet.  Her  beauty  was 
undimmed,  despite  a  pensive  pallor  on  her  delicate  cheek. 
She  fanned  herself  with  her  sun-bonnet,  and  the  heavy, 
undulating  folds  of  her  lustrous  yellow  hair  stirred  softly. 
"  I  'm  powerful  glad  ter  find  ye  hevin'  yer  health  same 
ez  common,"  she  said. 

"  I  'm  s'prised  ter  hear  ye  say  so,"  declared  Mrs. 
Purvine,  tart  from  her  renewed  conflicts  with  the  bag. 
"  I  ain't  sick,  bless  the  Lord,  but  I  wanted  ye  ter  kem 
down  hyar  an'  bide  with  me,  an'  I  knowed  T  could  n't  tole 
ye  out'n  that  thar  Eden,  ez  ye  call  Wild-Cat  Hollow, 
'thout  purtendin'  ter  be  nigh  dead.  So  I  jes'  held  my 
ban'  ter  my  side  an'  tied  up  my  head,  an'  hollered  ter  Ben 
Boaks  ez  he  went  by.  He  looked  mighty  sorry  fur  me  !  " 
A  faint  smile  flickered  across  her  broad  face.  "  I  hed 
laid  off  ter  go  ter  bed  afore  you-uns  kem,  though.  I  will 


368  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

say  fur  ye  ez  ye  travel  toler'ble  fas'.  Yes,  sir !  "  she 
went  on,  after  a  momentary  pause.  "  I  live  in  a  ongrate- 
ful  worl'.  I  hev  ter  gin  out  I  'm  dyin'  ter  git  my  own 
niece  ter  kem  ter  see  me.  An'  thar  's  that  thar  Jerry 
Price,  ez  I  hev  raised  from  a  ill-convenient  infant  ez 
won't  do  nuthin'  I  say,  nor  marry  nobody  I  picks  out  fur 
him.  I  '11  be  boun'  he  would  n't  hev  no  say-so  'bout'n  it 
ef  his  aunt  Melindy  Jane  lied  hed  the  raisin'  of  him.  An' 
Bluff  ez  good  ez  'lowed  this  mornin'  ez  he  'd  hook  me  ef  I 
did  n't  quit  foolin'  in  his  bucket  o'  bran,  —  'kase  I  'lowed 
ez  mebbe  the  saaft-soap  gourd  war  drapped  in  it,  bein'  ez 
I  could  n't  find  it  nowhar,  an'  I  war  af  ear'd  't  would  n't 
agree  with  the  critter's  insides.  An'  thar  's  that  rooster," 
—  he  was  now  out  among  the  weeds,  —  "  he  war  a  aig  ez 
got  by  accident  inter  a  tur-r-key's  nest,  an'  when  he  war 
hatched  she  would  n't  hev  him  ;  an'  ez  I  hed  no  hen  ez 
war  kerryin'  o'  chickens  his  size,  /  hed  ter  care  fur  him. 
I  useter  git  up  in  my  bare  feet  in  the  middle  o'  a  winter 
night  ter  kiver  up  that  thar  rooster  in  a  bat  o'  cotton,  fur 
he  war  easy  ter  git  cold,  an'  he  could  holler  ez  loud  ez  a 
baby.  An'  arter  all,  he  kem  hyar  an'  eat  up  'bout  haffen 
my  dish-rag-gourd  seed  !  I  dunno  what  in  Moses'  name 
is  kem  o'  the  other  bags.  Never  mind  !  "  —  she  shook 
her  head  as  she  addressed  the  jaunty  and  unprescient 
fowl,  —  "  I  '11  git  up  the  heart  ter  kill  ye  some  day  ;  an' 
ef  I  can't  eat  ye,  bein'  so  well  acquainted  with  ye,  1 11  be 
boun'  Jerry  kin." 

Alethea,  apprised  how  precious  the  seeds  were,  began 
to  gather  them  up  as  she  sat  on  the  step. 

"  Listen  ter  Jerry,  now  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Pur  vine, 
with  whom  the  world  had  evidently  gone  much  amiss  to- 
day. "  Need  n't  tell  me  he  don't  hurt  Bluff's  feelins, 
callin'  him  names  whilst  ploughing  an'  yellin'  at  him 
like  a  plumb  catamount.  Ef  Bluff  hed  n't  treated  me 
like  he  done  this  mornin',  I  'd  go  thar  an'  make  Jerry 
shet  up." 

Now  and  then  the  ox  and  the  man  at  the  plough-tail 
came  into  view  at  the  end  of  the  field  that  sloped  down 
to  the  road.  One  of  aunt  Dely's  boys  was  dropping  corn 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  369 

in  the  furrow,  and  the  other  followed  with  a  hoe  and 
covered  the  grain  in.  Alethea  watched  them  with  the 
interest  of  a  practical  farmer. 

Aunt  Dely,  too,  looked  up,  repeating  the  old  for- 
mula :  — 

"  One  fur  the  cut-worm  an'  one  fur  the  crow, 
Two  fur  the  blackbird  an'  one  fur  ter  grow." 

Jerry,  glancing  toward  the  house,  called  out  a  saluta- 
tion to  Alethea,  and  then  at  long  range  entered  upon  a 
colloquy  with  Mrs.  Purvine  touching  the  lack  of  seed. 

"  Whar  's  that  thar  t'other  bag  o'  seed-corn  ?  "  he  de- 
manded. 

"  Waal,  I  ain't  got  none ! "  cried  out  Mrs.  Purvine 
peremptorily.  "  I  mus'  hev  made  a  mistake,  and  fedded 
that  thar  bag  o'  special  an'  percise  fine  seed-corn  ter  the 
chickens,  —  I  wish  they  war  every  one  fried.  I  disre- 
member  now  what  I  done,  an'  what  I  done  it  fur.  Ye 
jes'  gear  up  Bluff  in  the  wagin  an'  go  ter  mill,  an'  see 
ef  ye  can't  git  some  thar." 

';  Laws-a-massy  !  "  objected  Jerry,  "  't  ain't  no  use  ter 
make  Bluff  go.  I  kin  git  thar  an'  back  quicker  an'  ea- 
sier 'thout  him  'n  with  him." 

"  Ye  do  ez  ye  air  bid,"  said  Mrs.^Purvine  ;  and  while 
Jerry  stared  she  presently  explained^  as  she  sawed  away 
on  the  draw-strings  of  a  bag,  *'  I  want  ye  ter  take  Lethe 
along  ter  the  post-office,  ter  see  ef  thar  's  enny  letter  fur 
me." 

Now,  Mrs.  Purvine  had  never  written  nor  received  a 
letter  in  her  life ;  in  fact,  would  not  have  understood  the 
functions  of  a  post-office,  had  it  not  been  for  her  hus- 
band s  incumbency  some  years  ago.  Nevertheless,  in 
common  with  half  the  country  -  side,  whenever  she 
thought  of  it  she  gravely  demanded  if  there  were  a  mis- 
sive for  her,  and  was  gravely  answered  in  the  negative, 
and  went  her  way  well  content. 

Both  young  people  understood  her  ruse  well  enough, 
—  to  throw  them  together,  in  the  hope  that  propinquity 
might  do  a  little  match-making.  Since  Mink's  long  sen- 


370  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

tence  of  imprisonment  had  been  pronounced  upon  him, 
she  felt  that  there  was  no  longer  fear  of  rivalry  from 
that  quarter,  as  the  Supreme  Court  would  hardly  reverse 
so  plain  and  just  a  judgment.  And  now,  she  thought,  is 
Jerry's  golden  opportunity.  However,  she  elaborately 
justified  the  expedition  upon  the  basis  of  convenience. 

"  Ye  could  fetch  the  letter  an'  the  corn  too,"  she  ob- 
served, in  a  cogitating  manner ;  "  but  then,  goin'  ter 
mill,  ye  'd  be  apt  ter  git  meal  sprinkled  onto  it.  I  reckon 
I  'd  better  send  Lethe  too.  Ye  kin  leave  her  at  the  post- 
office  till  ye  go  ter  mill." 

This  verisimilitude  imposed  even  upon  Alethea. 

"  Who  air  ye  expectin'  a  letter  from,  aunt  Dely  ? " 
said  the  girl. 

Mrs.  Purvine  was  equal  to  the  occasion. 

"  I  lowed,"  she  said,  with  swift  inspiration,  "  ez  some 
o'  them  folks  ez  w^e-uns  bided  with  down  thar  in  Shaftes- 
ville  mought  take  up  a  notion  ter  write  ter  us." 

Alethea  thought  this  not  unlikely,  and  set  out  with 
Jerry  with  some  interest,  fully  prepared  to  preserve  the 
precious  letter  from  any  contact  with  meal. 

Mrs.  Purvine,  her  ill-humor  evaporating  in  the  suc- 
cessful exploiting  of  her  little  plan,  gazed  after  them 
with  a  benignant  smile  illuminating  her  features,  as  they 
creaked  off  in  the  slow  little  ox-cart,  its  wheels  now  lean- 
ing outward  and  now  bending  inward,  as  the  loose  linch- 
pin or  some  obstruction  in  the  road  might  impel.  She 
noted,  however,  that  the  old  slouch  hat  and  the  brown 
sun-bonnet,  with  its  coy  tress  of  golden  hair  showing  be- 
neath its  curtain,  were  seldom  turned  toward  each  other, 
and  there  was  evidently  little  disposition  for  conversation 
between  the  two  young  people. 

"  Bluff  hev  got  mos'  o'  the  brains  in  that  thar  com- 
p'ny,"  she  said  to  herself  with  indignation  because  of 
their  mutual  indifference.  "  But  Lethe  Ann  Sayles  air 
mighty  diffe'nt  from  some  wimmin,  ef  she  kin  hold  her 
jaw  fur  twenty  year,  an'  keep  that  thar  dead-an'-gin-out 
look  on  her  face  fur  Mink  Lorey.  He  can't  git  back 
'fore  then.  An'  Jerry  's  got  ez  good  a  chance  ez  Ben 


IN  THE    CLOUDS.  371 

Doaks.  But  it 's  mighty  hard  on  a  pore  old  woman  like 
me,  ez  hed  trouble  enough  marryin'  herself  off  thirty 
year  ago,  a-runnin'  away  an'  sech,  ter  gin  herself  ter 
study  in'  'bout  sech  foolishness  in  her  old  age  ez  love- 
makin',  an'  onsettlin'  her  mind,  'kase  they  hain't  got 
enough  sense  ter  do  thar  courtin'  'thout  help." 

But  this  unique  grievance  was  so  inadequate  that  Mrs. 
Purvine  gave  up  the  effort  to  eke  out  thereby  her  ill- 
humor,  and  gazed  about  with  placid  complacence  at  the 
spring  landscape,  tossing  all  the  bags  of  seed  together 
into  a  splint  basket,  to  be  sorted  at  some  more  propitious 
day. 

In  Bluff's  slow  progress  along  the  red  clay  road,  the 
gradual  unfolding  of  the  scene,  the  vernal  peace,  the 
benedictory  sunshine,  had  their  benignant  effect  on  Ale- 
thea.  Absorbed  as  she  had  been,  in  descending  the 
mountain,  by  her  anxiety  for  the  specious  aunt  Dely's 
illness,  she  had  not  noted  until  now  how  far  the  spring 
was  advanced  in  the  sheltered  depths  of  the  cove,  how 
loath  to  climb  to  the  sterile  fastnesses  of  Wild-Cat  Hol- 
low. 

"  The  season  'pears  ter  be  toler'ble  backward  in  the 
hollow,  jedgin'  by  the  cove,"  she  remarked,  her  eyes 
resting  wistfully  upon  the  tender  verdure  on  the  margin 
of  the  river.  The  sun  was  warm,  for  it  was  not  long 
past  noon,  and  Bluff  stopped  to  drink  in  the  midst  of  the 
ford.  The  translucent  brown  water  above  the  bowlders, 
all  distinct  in  its  clear  depths,  washed  about  the  miry 
wheels,  and  lapced  with  soft  sighs  against  the  rocky 
banks ;  great  silvery  circles  elastically  expanded  on  its 
surface  about  the  ox's  muzzle,  distorting  somewhat  the 
image  of  his  head  and  his  big,  insistent,  sullen  eyes  and 
long  horns,  as  he  drank.  Whenever  the  sunbeams  struck 
the  current  a  bevy  of  tiny  insects  might  be  seen,  skitter- 
ing about  over  the  water  ;  and  hark  !  a  frog  was  croak- 
ing on  a  rotten  log  in  the  dank  shadow  of  the  laurel. 
From  the  fields  beyond  the  call  of  the  quail  was  sweet 
and  clear.  The  ranges  encompassing  the  cove  on  every 
hand  seemed  doubly  beautiful,  doubly  dear,  with  the 


372  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

tender  promise  of  summer  upon  them,  with  the  fresh- 
ened delights  of  soft  airs  pervading  them,  with  the  pre- 
dominant sense  of  the  liberated  joys  of  nature  in  the 
bourgeonings  and  the  blooms,  in  the  swift  rushing  of  tor- 
rents, in  the  whirl  of  wings.  The  wooded  lines  of  those 
summits  close  at  hand  were  drawn  in  fine  detail  against 
the  sky,  save  where  the  great  balds  towered,  —  symmet- 
rical, ponderous,  bare  domes ;  further  mountains  showed 
purple  and  blue,  and  among  them  was  a  lowering  gray 
portent  that  might  have  seemed  a  storm-cloud,  save  to 
those  who  knew  the  strange,  cumulose  outline  of  Thun- 
derhead. 

Everywhere  birds  were  building.  A  couple  of  jays 
were  carrying  straws  from  a  heap  in  a  corner  of  a  fence  ; 
they  rose  with  a  great  whirl  of  blue  and  white  feathers, 
as  Bluff,  his  horns  nodding,  approached  them.  A  dove 
was  cooing  in  a  clump  of  dog-wood  trees,  whitely  bloom- 
ing by  the  road.  There  was  a  great  commotion  of  wings 
in  the  air  from  a  lofty  martin-house  in  a  wayside  door- 
yard,  as  the  plucky  denizens  chased  a  hawk  round  and 
round  and  out  of  sight. 

"  Thought  that  thar  war  the  way  ter  the  post-office  at 
Squair  Bates's,  Jerry,"  Alethea  observed,  pointing  down 
one  of  those  picturesque  winding  roads,  so  common  to 
the  region,  threading  the  forests,  its  tawny  red  convolu- 
tions flecked  with  shadow  and  sheen,  showing  in  long, 
fascinating  vistas,  and  luring  one  to  follow. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Jerry,  "  but  I  hev  got  ter  take  ye  ter 
the  post-office  at  Locust  Levels.  Ain't  ye  hearn  aunt 
Dely  'low  that  ?  An'  I  hev  got  ter  leave  ye  thar  whilst 
I  go  ter  the  grist-mill  nigh  by,  off  the  road  a  piece." 

Alethea  flushed  with  a  dull  annoyance,  recognizing  the 
device  that  the  long  drive  might  be  still  longer.  She 
nevertheless  made  no  comment.  They  were  each  too 
dutiful  to  vary  the  plan  of  the  journey,  although  aunt 
Dely  might  have  considered  this  only  obedience  in  the 
letter,  and  not  in  the  spirit,  as  neither  again  spoke  for  a 
mile  or  more. 

"  This  be  Kildeer  County,"  said  Jerry,  at  last,  break- 


IN   THE   CLOUDS.  373 

ing  the  long  silence.     "  We-uns  crossed  the  line  back 
thar  'bout  haffen  hour  ago." 

Alethea's  pensive  enjoyment  of  the  gentle  influences 
of  the  scene  was  marred.  To  be  sure,  aunt  Dely  had  an 
unequivocal  right  to  send,  if  she  liked,  to  the  post-office 
at  Locust  Levels,  a  hamlet  of  Kildeer  County,  rather 
than  to  the  one  nearer,  in  her  own  county ;  but  it  was  a 
patent  subterfuge  that  she  should  expect  to  receive  letters 
here  from  their  friends  in  Shaftesville.  It  was  Alethea's 
excellent  common  sense  that  had  preserved  her  from  the 
folly  of  the  continual  anticipation  of  a  letter,  so  common 
among  ignorant  people,  who,  with  no  acquaintances  else- 
where, beset  the  post-offices  with  their  demands.  She 
had  never  asked  for  a  letter  for  herself,  and  there  had 
begun  to  be  revealed  to  her  the  fact  that  it  was  not  a 
post-office  which  could  produce  an  epistle  for  Mrs.  Pur- 
vine  ;  she  needed  a  correspondent. 

"  Ef  ye  'low  ye  '11  feel  like  a  fool  axin'  fur  that  thar 
letter,  Lethe,"  said  the  acute  Jerry,  divining  her  thoughts, 
"  I  '11  do  it.  I  never  mind  feelin'  like  a  fool,  —  thar 's  a 
heap  o'  'em  in  this  worl'.  An'  whenever  I  acts  like 
one,  I  remembers  I  'm  in  powerful  good  company.  An' 
that 's  why  I  don't  try  ter  be  no  smarter  'n  I  am." 

But  Alethea  said  that  she  would  ask  for  the  letter,  as 
aunt  Dely  had  directed.  When  she  alighted  from  the 
wagon  at  Locust  Levels,  Jerry  and  Bluff  drove  off  at  a 
whisking  pace,  which  indicated  that  both  might  feel 
relieved. 

At  the  post-office  the  wood-pile  was  in  front  of  the 
house,  and  therefore  the  approach  was  over  chips,  splin- 
ters, and  shreds  of  bark,  which  gave  out  a  pungent  fra- 
grance. It  was  a  low  little  gray  cabin,  partly  of  log  and 
partly  of  plank,  and  with  a  blossoming  company  of  peach- 
trees  about  it.  They  hung  over  the  fence,  and  all  the 
steep  bank  down  to  the  road  was  covered  with  their  pink 
petals  shed  in  the  wind.  Some  golden  candlesticks  and 
"  butter-and-eggs  "  were  blooming  inside  the  rickety  little 
palings,  and  a  girl  stood  upon  the  porch  beside  a  spinning- 
wheel. 


374  JN  THE   CLOUDS. 

Alethea  noted  the  unrecognizing  stare  bent  upon  her. 
She  opened  the  gate  with  difficulty,  and  went  up  on  the 
shaded  porch.  The  girl  had  stopped  spinning,  but  was 
still  gazing  at  her.  A  yellow  dog,  who  had  been  asleep 
on  the  floor,  his  muzzle  on  his  fore-paws,  also  scanned 
her  curiously,  not  stirring  his  head,  only  lifting  his  eyes. 
When  she  faltered  her  inquiry  for  a  letter  for  Mrs. 
Purvine,  the  dog  got  up  as  briskly  as  if  he  were  the 
postmaster. 

"  Fur  who  ?  "  demanded  a  masculine  voice,  as  a  man 
with  a  plough-line  in  his  hand  stepped  around  the  corner, 
lured  by  the  sound  of  the  colloquy. 

"Mis'  Purvine,"  repeated  Alethea. 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  touch  of  indignation.  He 
would  never  get  through  his  spring  ploughing  at  this 
rate.  He  strode  into  the  house,  however,  to  investigate. 
"I  never  hearn  o'  her  in  all  my  life,"  he  said  tartly. 

And  Alethea  began  to  have  a  realization  how  very 
wide  this  world  is. 

The  walls  of  the  room  bore  many  flaming  graces  of 
advertisement,  pasted  over  the  logs.  They  were  of  more 
fantastic  device  and  a  newer  fashion  than  Mrs.  Purvine's 
relics  of  her  husband's  postinasterirhip.  There  wrere  two 
neat  beds  in  the  room,  a  veiy  clean  floor,  and  a  woman 
in  the  chimney-corner,  smoking  her  pipe,  who  nodded 
with  grave  courtesy  to  Alethea. 

The  postmaster  inserted  a  key  in  the  lock  of  a  table- 
drawer,  and  there,  by  seme  perversity,  it  stuck;  it  would 
neither  come  out  nor  go  further  in,  nor  turn  in  either 
direction.  The  dog  had  entered,  too,  as  he  always  did, 
with  a  business-like  air,  and  was1  standing  beneath  the 
table,  slowly  wagging  his  tail  and  lolling  out  his  tongue  ; 
what  strange  ideas  did  he  connect  with  the  distribution 
of  the  mail?  His  position  involved  some  danger,  as  his 
master  struggled  ar>d  pulled  at  the  drawer,  and  jerked 
the  table  about.  Finally,  one  of  its  legs  came  in  contact 
with  the  foot  of  the  dog,  who  had  the  worst  of  it.  As 
his  shrieks  filled  the  room,  the  perspiring  man  turned  to 
Alethea. 


/AT  THE   CLOUDS.  375 

"  I  know  thar  ain't  no  letter  fur  no  Mis'  Purvine,"  he 
declared.  "  Thar  air  jes  fovver  letters  in  this  hyar  dad- 
burned  drawer,  an'  they  be  fur  Judge  Gwinnan.  Ye 
see  I  can't  open  it." 

The  mail  seemed  indeed  in  safe-keeping.  His  daughter, 
who  had  been  peering  down  the  road,  suddenly  spoke  :  — • 

"  Ye  '11  hev  ter  open  it.  Fur  thar  be  Jedge  Gwinnan 
now,  a-ridin'  up  on  that  thar  roan  colt  o'  his'n,  what  he 
hev  jes'  bruk." 

A  little  play  with  the  key,  and  the  drawer  abruptly 
opened. 

There  was,  indeed,  no  letter  for  Mrs.  Purvine,  and 
snatching  up  the  four  for  Judge  Gwinnan,  with  some 
newspapers,  the  postmaster  ran  hastily  out,  hailing  the 
rider  as  he  drew  rein  at  the  corner  of  the  orchard  fence. 

Alethea  hesitated  for  a  moment  at  the  gate,  gazing  at 
the  equestrian  figure  that  had  paused  under  the  soft  pink 
glamours  of  the  orchard.  She  had  heard  of  his  belated 
plea  for  Mink  Lorey.  He  evidently  bore  no  grudge  for 
his  injuries.  Suddenly  there  flashed  into  her  mind  a 
word  that  she  might  say  for  that  graceless  and  forlorn 
wight,  —  a  word  which,  perhaps,  might  not  be  taken 
amiss  ;  and  if  it  should  do  no  good,  it  could  at  least 
work  no  harm.  It  was  an  abrupt  resolution.  She  stood 
in  eager  impatience,  yet  loath  to  interrupt  him. 

Gwinnan  read  his  letters,  one  by  one,  while  the  post- 
master went  back  to  the  plough,  where  the  gray  mare 
dozed  in  the  furrow. 

As  Gwinnan  gathered  up  the  reins,  looking  absently 
ahead,  the  girl  waiting  by  the  roadside  signed  to  him  to 
stop.  He  did  not  see  her.  Somehow  Alethea  could  not 
speak.  She  sprang  forward  with  a  hoarse  cry,  as  he  was 
about  to  pass  like  a  flash,  and  caught  his  bridle.  The 
young  horse  swerved,  instead  of  trampling  upon  her,  but 
dragging  her  with  him. 

"Take  care  !  "  cried  out  Gwinnan  sharply.  He  drew 
up  his  horse  with  an  effort,  and  looked  down  at  her  in 
amazement  as  she  still  clung  to  the  bridle. 

The  next  moment  he  recognized  her. 


XXVI. 

UNDER  the  strong  pull  on  the  curb,  the  young  horse 
stood  quivering  in  every  limb  beneath  the  blossoming 
peach  boughs  that  overhung  the  grassy  margin  of  the 
road.  There  seemed  a  reflection  of  their  delicate  roseate 
tints  in  Alethea's  upturned  face,  as  with  one  hand  she 
still  grasped  the  bridle.  Her  old  brown  bonnet,  falling 
back,  showed  her  golden  hair  in  its  dusky  tunnel.  The 
straight  blooming  wands  of  the  volunteer  peach  sprouts, 
that  had  sprung  up  outside  the  zigzag  barriers  of  the  rail 
fence,  clustered  about  the  folds  of  her  homespun  dress, 
as  she  stood  in  their  midst. 

All  at  once  she  was  trembling  violently.  Her  lumi- 
nous brown  eyes  suddenly  faltered.  In  her  every  consid- 
eration she  herself  was  always  so  secondary  — -  not  with 
a  sedulous  effort  of  subordination,  but  yielding  with  a 
fine  and  generous  instinct  to  the  interest  of  others  —  that 
until  this  moment  she  had  had  no  self-consciousness  in 
regard  to  the  jealousy  which  had  resulted  in  Gwinnan's 
injuries.  For  this  he  had  been  struck  down  and  brought 
near  to  death.  Some  sense  of  a  reciprocal  consciousness, 
an  overwhelming  deprecation  of  Mink's  folly  in  fancying 
him  a  rival,  a  vague  wonderment  as  to  the  effect  of  the 
idea  upon  Gwinnan,  seized  upon  her  for  the  first  time 
now  in  his  presence,  as  if  she  had  had  no  leisure  hith- 
erto t6  think  of  these  things.  She  could  not  speak.  She 
could  not  meet  his  serious,  intent,  expectant  eye. 

"  Did  you  have  something  to  say  to  me  ?  "  he  asked, 
taking  the  initiative. 

It  wras  the  same  tone  that  had  given  her  sympathetic 
encouragement  in  the  court-room,  charged  with  a  per- 
sonal interest,  a  grave  solicitude,  all  unlike  the  superfi- 
cial, unmeaning  courtesy  of  the  lawyers.  She  spoke  im- 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  377 

petuously  now  as  then,  and  with  instant  reliance  upon 
him. 

"  I  hearn,  jedge,"  she  cried,  looking  up  radiantly  at 
him,  "  ez  how  ye  hev  gin  out  ez  ye  never  wanted  Reuben 
Lorey  ter  be  prosecuted  fur  tryin'  ter  kill  ye,  an'  axed 
fur  him  ter  be  let  off,  an'  I  'lowed  ye  hold  no  gredge 
agin  him.  'Pears  ter  me  like  ye  war  powerful  good 
'bout'n  it." 

"  But  he  was  prosecuted,"  the  judge  said  quickly,  fan- 
cying that  she  was  under  a  delusion. 

"  I  know  !  "  she  cried,  with  a  poignant  accent.  "  I 
know !  I  hearn  it  all." 

She  thought  of  his  justification,  his  fancied  provoca- 
tion, and  once  more  timidity  beset  her.  How  could  she 
have  found  courage  to  speak  in  his  behalf  to  Gwinnan  ? 
The  judge  himself  was  embarrassed  ;  she  knew  it  by  the 
way  he  turned  the  reins  in  his  hands.  She  noted  details 
which  usually,  when  her  faculties  were  not  so  abnormally 
alert,  would  not  have  arrested  her  attention:  the  sleek 
coat  of  the  handsome  young  horse,  which  now  and  then 
shook  his  head  as  if  in  disdain  of  her  grasp ;  the  super- 
fine accoutrements  of  saddle  and  bridle ;  the  smooth 
hands  that  held  the  reins  ;  the  severely  straight  linea- 
ments, shadowed  by  the  brim  of  the  hat ;  and  the  search- 
ing, intent  gray  eyes,  which  saw,  she  felt,  her  inmost 
thouo-ht. 

The  postmaster,  ploughing,  came  ever  and  anon  down 
to  the  fence,  pausing  there  to  turn,  and  sometimes  to 
thrust  with  his  foot  the  clinging  mould  from  the  share. 
Occasionally  he  glanced  at  the  incongruous  couple,  but 
as  if  the  colloquy  between  them  were  a  very  normal  in- 
cident, and  with  that  courteous  lack  of  curiosity  and  spec- 
ulation characteristic  of  the  region.  All  the  fowls  of 
the  place  followed  in  the  furrow,  clucking  with  gustatory 
satisfaction ;  now  and  then,  with  a  gluttonous  outcry, 
they  darted  to  certain  clods  upturned  by  the  plough,  and 
the  pantomime  indicated  much  mortality  among  those 
poor  troglodytes,  the  worms  of  the, earth. 

"  You  wanted  to  speak  to  me  about  him,"  said  Gwin- 
nan, with,  it  seemed  to  her,  wonderful  divination. 


378  AV  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  Ye  know,  jedge,"  she  said,  more  calmly,  instantly 
reassured  whenever  he  spoke,  "  they  hev  fund  out  ei 
't  war  n't  him  ez  bust  down  the  mill.  A  boy  seen  it 
done,  an'  he  war  feared  ter  tell  afore.  I  reckon  that 
war  what  set  Reuben  off  so  awful  onruly,  —  knowin' 
he  never  done  it,  nor  drown ded  Tad  nuther,  —  an'  the 
'torney-gin'al  makin'  folks  'low  I  seen  a  harnt." 

"  I  dare  say,"  remarked  Gwinnan,  dryly. 

"  An'  I  lowed,"  she  continued,  looking  at  him  with 
beautiful,  beseeching  eyes  "  ez  't  won't  do  him  much  good 
ef  he  does  git  off  at  his  nex'  trial,  'kase  then  he  '11  be 
bound  ter  be  in  the  prison  arterward,  ennyhow,  fur 
twenty  years.  An'  I  'lowed  I  'd  ax  ye,  seem'  ez  yo 
don't  hold  no  gredge  agin  him,  —  I  wonder  at  ye,  too  ! 
—  ef  ye  can't  do  nuthin'  ez  kin  git  him  out  now." 

The  wind  waved  the  peach  boughs  above  their  heads, 
and  the  pink  petals  were  set  a-drifting  down  the  currents 
of  the  air.  Among  the  blossoms  bees  were  booming, 
and  on  a  budding  spray  a  blue  and  crested  jay  was 
jauntily  pluming  its  wings.  Gold  flakes  of  sunshine 
shifted  obliquely  through  the  rosy,  inflorescent  bower 
delicately  imposed  upon  the  blue  sky.  In  its  fine  azure 
cirrus  clouds  were  vaguely  limned.  On  the  opposite  side 
of  the  road  was  the  bluff  end  of  a  ridge,  presenting  a 
high  escarpment  of  grim  splintered  rocks ;  among  the 
niches  ferns  grew  and  vines  trailed  downward  ;  there 
came  from  them  a  dank,  refreshing  odor,  for  moisture 
continuously  trickled  from  them,  and  a  hidden  spring  in 
a  cleft  by  the  wayside  asserted  its  presence,  —  its  tink- 
ling distinctly  heard  in  the  pause  that  ensued. 

He  looked  meditatively  at  the  jagged  heights.  Then 
suddenly  he  turned  his  eyes  upon  her. 

She  was  only  a  simple  mountain  girl,  but  it  seemed  to 
him  that  never  since  the  first  spring  bloomed  had  woman 
worn  so  noble  and  appealing  a  face,  so  fine  and  delicate 
a  personality.  The  crude  dialect,  familiar  enough  to 
him  accustomed  to  the  region,  significant  of  ignorance, 
of  poverty,  of  hopeless  isolation  from  civilization,  of  un- 
couth manners,  was  in  her  all  that  speech  might  be,  a 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  379 

medium  for  her  ideas ;  the  coarseness  of  her  dress  could 
hardly  impinge  upon  the  impression  of  her  grace,  —  it 
was  merely  a  garb.  Her  embarrassment  had  ceased. 
She  looked  straight  at  him  ;  the  unconscious  dignity  of 
her  manner,  the  calmness  of  her  grave  eyes,  the  fading 
flush  in  her  cheek,  betokened  that  she  had  made  her  ap- 
peal to  his  generosity  and  that  she  had  faith  in  it. 

He  was  not  a  man  who  gave  promises  lightly.  He 
was  still  silent.  Again  he  looked  up  the  road,  with  an 
absorbed  and  knitted  brow.  He  tipped  his  hat  further 
forward  over  his  face ;  he  shifted  the  reins  uncertainly 
in  his  hands ;  the  horse  impatiently  shook  his  head  and 
struck  the  ground  with  his  forefoot. 

"  It  would  be  the  worst  thing  I  could  do  —  for  you," 
Gwinnan  said  at  last,  surprised  himself  at  the  tone  he 
was  taking. 

She  made  no  rejoinder  ;  her  face  did  not  change ;  she 
only  looked  expectantly  at  him. 

u  You  ought  not  to  marry  a  man  like  that,"  he  con- 
tinued. "  You  are  too  good  for  him ;  and  that  is  not 
saying  much  for  you  either." 

u  Oh,"  she  cried,  renewing  her  hold  upon  the  bridle, 
and  looking  up  with  a  face  that  coerced  credence,  "  't 
ain't  fur  myself  I  want  him  free !  It  air  jes'  fur  him. 
He  'peared  ter  set  mo'  store  by  another  gal  than  me.  I 
ain't  thinkin'  ez  we-uns  would  marry  then.  Like  ez  not 
he  'd  go  straight  ter  Elviry  Crosby." 

Another  man  might  have  experienced  an  amusement, 
a  sort  of  self  -  ridicule,  that  he  should  remember  the 
names  of  the  infinitely  insignificant,  uncouth  and  humble 
actors  in  the  little  drama  played  in  the  court-room.  But 
to  Gwinnan  people  were  people  wherever  he  found  them, 
and  he  had  more  respect  for  their  principles  than  for 
their  clothes.  He  recollected  without  effort  the  mention 
of  Elvira  in  tho  testimony. 

Nevertheless,  with  the  many-sided  view  of  the  lawyer, 
he  rejoined,  oblivious  of  the  suggestion  conveyed,  "I 
think  not.  It  was  on  your  account  he  attacked  me." 

Her  face  crimsoned,  but  with  that  fine  instinct  of  hers 


380  IN   THE   CLOUDS. 

she  steadfastly  met  his  gaze,  intimating  that  she  placed 
no  foolish  interpretation  upon  his  words  or  actions.  She 
answered  quietly  enough,  "  Reuben  air  sometimes  gin  ter 
reckless  notions.  I  reckon  he  noticed  ez  ye  tuk  up  fur 
me  whenst  them  lawyers  war  so  besettin'.  He  war  n't 
used  ter  sech  ez  that  in  Wild-Cat  Hollow.  Folks  giner- 
ally  air  sot  agin  me.  Though  I  ain't  treated  mean,  no- 
ways," she  added,  hastily,  lest  she  might  decry  her  rela- 
tives. "  Only  nobody  thinks  like  me." 

A  forlorn  isolation  she  suggested,  —  away  up  in  the 
Great  Smoky  Mountains,  thinking  her  unshared  thoughts. 

There  was  an  increased  attention  in  his  face  as  he  de- 
manded, "Think  differently  about  what?  " 

He  had  an  imperative  eye,  an  insistent  voice.  It  did 
not  occur  to  her  that  his  interest  was  strange.  And  in- 
deed he  was  not  a  man  to  be  questioned. 

She  paused  for  a  moment,  her  eyes  full  of  a  dreamy 
retrospection.  She  was  not  looking  at  him,  but  at  the 
boughs  of  pink  blossoms  above  his  horse's  head,  and  then 
she  absently  glanced  at  a  black  butterfly,  bespangled  with 
orange  and  blue,  flying  across  the  road  to  the  ferns  about 
the  spring.  As  the  fluttering  wings  disappeared  she 
seemed  to  start  from  her  reverie. 

"  Jedge,"  she  said,  in  a  piteous  deprecation,  "things 
seem  right  ter  me,  an'  other  folks  thinks  'em  wrong. 
An'  I  feel  obleeged  ter  do  what  I  'low  air  right,  an'  it 
all  turns  out  wrong.  An'  then  I  'm  besides  myself  with 
blame  !  I  reckon  ye  would  n't  blieve  it,  but  it 's  all  my 
fault  'bout'n  this  trouble  o'  Reuben  Lorey's.  Ef  it  hed  n't 
been  fur  me,  he  would  n't  hev  gone  down  ter  Shaftesville 
ter  gin  up  all  he  hed  ter  old  man  Griff  —  like  I  tole  him 
ter  do  ez  soon  ez  I  hed  hearn  'bout  bustin'  the  mill  down. 
I  tole  him  ter  do  it,  an'  he  done  it.  An'  look,  —  look !  " 
She  lifted  her  hand  as  if  she  drew  a  veil  from  the  disas- 
trous sequences.  Her  voice  choked,  her  eyes  were  full 
of  tears.  "  An'  then  I  told  that  thar  moonshiner  ez  I 
would  n't  promise  ter  keep  his  secret,  an'  they  runned 
away  fur  fear  o'  me.  'kase  Tad  went  thar  arter  he  got 
out  o'  the  ruver.  I  seen  Sam  Marvin  arterward,  an'  he 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  381 

'lowed  ter  me  they  s 'posed  he  war  a  spy,  an'  beat  him, 
an'  —  an'  —  I  clunno  what  else  they  done  ter  him.  None 
o'  that  would  hev  happened  ef  I  lied  promised  ter  hold 
my  tongue.  But  it  did  n't  'pear  right  ter  me." 

"  Then  you  were  right  not  to  promise,'*  he  said,  reas- 
suringly. "  No  one  can  do  more  than  what  seems  right ; 
that  is,"  —  it  behooves  a  man  of  his  profession  to  modify 
and  qualify,  —  "  within  the  limits  of  the  law." 

She  looked  up  at  him  a  little  wonderingly.  Her 
latent  faculties  for  speculation  were  timorously  develop- 
ing in  the  first  realization  of  intelligent  sympathy  that 
had  ever  fallen  to  her  lot.  How  strange  that  such  as  he 
—  and  somehow  she  subtly  appreciated  in  him  that  uni- 
fication of  mental  force,  education,  civilization,  natural 
endowment,  and  moral  training,  of  the  existence  of 
which  she  was  otherwise  unconscious  —  should  tolerate 
her  doctrine;  nay,  should  revere  and  accept  it  as  a 
creed  ! 

u  A  heap  o'  harm  an'  wrong  hev  kem  of  it,"  she  said, 
submitting  the  logic  of  Wild-Cat  Hollow. 

"  That  is  not  our  lookout.  The  moral  law  is  to  do 
what  seems  right,  no  matter  what  happens." 

A  vague  smile  broke  upon  his  face  ;  his  eyes  were 
illumined  with  a  new  light ;  he  seemed  suddenly  young 
and  very  gentle. 

"  You  need  never  be  afraid  of  doing  any  harm ;  you 
may  rely  on  it,  you  know  what  is  right." 

He  was  laughing  at  himself  a  moment  later,  — to 
gravely  discuss  these  elementary  ethics  with  a  weighty 
sense.  And  yet  he  was  glad  to  reassure  her. 

"Oh,  jedge !  "  she  cried,  overcome  with  a  sense  of 
relief,  with  her  happy  reliance  on  his  superior  knowl- 
edge, —  was  not  he  the  judge  ?  —  "  that  ain't  what  folks 
tell  me.  They  'low  I  be  like  that  thar  harnt  o'  a  herder 
on  Thunderhead ;  ef  I  can't  kill  ye,  I  jes'  withers  yer 
time  an'  spiles  yer  prospects.  Oh !  "  —  she  struggled' 
for  self-control,  — "I  hev  studied  on  that  sayin'  till  it 
'peared  't  would  kill  me." 

"  Whoever  told  you  that  was  very  cruel,  and  I  dare 


382  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

say  very  worthless,"  said  Gwinnan  sharply.  He  was 
prompted  by  a  vicarious  resentment ;  he  was  picturing 
to  himself  some  harsh-faced  mountain  neighbor  as  he 
asked  sternly,  "  Who  said  it?  " 

She  saw  the  indignation  in  his  countenance  and  sud- 
denly feared  that  she  was  near  to  wrecking  her  lover's 
interest  with  the  powerful  man  whom  she  sought  to  en- 
list. 

"I  — I  can't  tell,"  she  faltered. 

He  waived  the  matter.  "  All  right,"  he  said,  hastily. 
His  face  had  hardened ;  he  was  laughing  a  little,  cyni- 
cally. Who  it  was  he  knew  right  well.  He  had  known 
right  well,  too,  and  many  months  ago,  that  she  was  in- 
fatuated with  this  young  fellow,  —  how  dashing,  how 
spirited  the  scapegrace  looked  in  his  sudden  recollec- 
tion !  —  and  only  now  he  began  to  definitely  resent  it. 
He  glanced  down  at  her  with  reprehensive,  reproachful 
eyes.  He  was  but  a  man,  for  all  that  he  sat  upon  the 
bench  and  knew  the  law. 

Alethea  noted  the  subtle  change  in  his  face.  It  be- 
wildered and  confused  her,  but  the  surprise  of  it  was  as 
naught  to  the  amazement  that  overpowered  her  to  dis- 
cover that  the  sky  was  reddening,  the  sun  was  sinking 
low  to  the  purple  Chilhowee,  all  the  intervenient  levels 
were  suffused  with  a  golden  haze,  and  down  the  tawny, 
winding  road  she  discerned  a  moving  speck,  which  she 
divined  might  be  Jerry  Price  and  Bluff  coming  for  her 
from  the  mill.  Her  rigorous  conscience  took  her  to  task 
that,  beguiled  by  a  word  of  sympathy,  of  comprehen- 
sion, she  should  have  let  the  forlorn  interests  of  her 
captive  lover  wait  while  she  listened. 

"  Oh,  jedge,"  she  exclaimed,  clinging  to  the  bridle,  — 
and  it  seemed  he  heard  for  the  first  time  the  voice  of 
supplication,  — "  I  know  ye  ain't  one  ez  medjures  a 
gredge  an'  pays  it  back.  An'  I  'lowed  I  'd  ax  ye  ter  do 
sutliin'  fur  him.  He  air  a  onruly  boy,  I  know,  but  he 
never  meant  ter  do  sech  —  no  harm  —  leastwise  he  — 
He  war  harried  by  things  turnin'  out  so  ez  he  could  n't 
git  jestice.  An'  leastwise,  jedge  "  — 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  383 

Poor  Alethea  was  unskilled  in  argument,  and  even 
Harshaw  had  been  fain  to  let  Mink's  moral  worth  pass 
without  emblazonment. 

"  Oh,  jedge,"  she  cried,  "  ef  ye  could  do  suthin'  fur 
him,  't  would  be  sech  a  f avior  ter  him,  —  all  his  life  's 
gone  in  that  sentence,  —  an'  —  an'  ter  me." 

Pie  slowly  shook  his  head. 

"  Not  to  you.  It  surprises  me  that  you,  who  know  so 
well  what  is  right  and  good,  should  care  for  a  man  like 
that.  He  has  only  two  alternations  :  he  is  either  mis- 
chievous or  malicious." 

She  was  once  more  helplessly  feeling  aloof  from  all 
the  world ;  for  here  his  sympathy  ended. 

"It  is  a  folly,  and  that  is  very  wrong.  You  have 
mind  enough,  if  you  would  exert  it,  to  be  sensible,  to  be 
anything  you  like." 

And  because  he  thought,  with  all  the  rest,  that  she 
was  too  good  for  the  man  she  loved,  he  would  not  help  ? 
Ah,  what  joys  of  liberty,  what  griefs  of  long  laborious 
years,  what  daily  humiliation  of  that  sturdy  pride,  what 
inexorable  tortures  to  break  that  elastic  spirit,  —  for 
break  at  last  it  must,  —  had  Mink's  half-hearted  affec- 
tion cost  him  !  Her  face  had  grown  pale  suddenly  ; 
the  ebbing  of  her  hope,  that  had  rushed  in  upon  her  in 
a  strong,  tumultuous  tide,  was  like  the  ebbing  of  life. 
Her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  her  despair  looked 
through  them  at  him. 

He  had  known  much  of  the  finalities  of  life.  He 
dealt  in  conclusions.  Volition,  circumstance,  character, 
might  all  make  vital  play  in  the  varied  causes  that 
brought  the  event  under  his  jurisdiction,  but  he  wielded 
the  determining  influence  and  affixed  the  result.  All 
human  emotions  had  been  unveiled  to  him :  he  could 
finely  distinguish  and  separate  into  its  constituent  ele- 
ments hate,  misery,  despair,  fear,  rage,  envy ;  he  even 
must  needs  seek  to  analyze  the  incomprehensible  black 
heart  of  the  murderer.  He  was  a  man  of  ample  learn- 
ing, of  high  ambitions,  of  excellent  nerve,  untouched  by 
any  morbid  influence.  He  had  pronounced  the  death 


384  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

sentence  without  a  tremor..  He  was  deliberate,  cautious, 
reserved. 

And  yet  because  her  cheek  paled,  because  her  eyes 
looked  at  him  with  the  reproach  of  a  dumb  creature 
cruelly  slain,  because  she  said  no  word,  he  was  pierced 
with  pity  for  her.  He  was  definitely  aware  now  of  his 
own  generosity  when  he  promised  aught  for  her  lover. 
He  was  amazed  at  himself,  —  amazed  at  the  pang  that 
it  gave  him  when  he  said,  — 

"  But  I  '11  try,  —  I  '11  see  what  can  be  done.  I  shall 
be  in  Nashville  soon,  and  I  '11  talk  to  the  governor,  and 
make  a  strong  effort  to  get  a  pardon.  Not  at  once,  you 
understand,  but  after  a  little  time." 

He  gathered  up  the  reins ;  the  long  horns  of  Bluff, 
approaching  very  near,  were  affronting  the  tender  sensi- 
bilities of  the  roan  colt,  who  snorted  and  stamped  at  the 
sight  of  them,  and  seemed  likely  to  bolt.  Alethea  had, 
perforce,  moved  back  among  the  pink  blossoms  by  the 
wayside  ;  from  amidst  them  she  looked  up  at  Gwinnan 
with  a  rapture  of  gratitude,  of  admiration,  of  benedic- 
tion, for  which  she  had  no  words.  She  felt  that  she  did 
not  need  them,  for  he  understood  so  well,  he  understood 
so  strangely,  her  most  secret  thought.  He  nodded  to 
her  and  to  the  staring  Jerry,  who  sat  in  the  ox-cart. 
And  then  the  restive  roan  bounded  away  into  the  golden 
spring  sunshine,  his  glossy  coat  and  flying  mane  distinct 
against  the  delicate  green  of  the  wayside,  far,  far  up  the 
road ;  and  presently  he  was  but  a  dwindling  atom,  and 
anon  lost  to  view. 


XXVII. 

THE  spectacular  effects  of  the  newly  built  railroad 
through  Cherokee  County  are  of  ceaseless  interest  to  the 
denizens  of  the  little  log-cabins  that  lie  at  wide  intervals 
upon  the  route,  along  which,  indeed,  for  many  miles,  the 
only  trace  of  civilization  and  progress  is  the  occasional 
swift  apparition  of  the  locomotive,  and  the  long  parallel 
rails  glistening  in  the  sun.  The  dwellers  in  a  certain 
hut  near  the  river  might  be  considered  to  afford  typical 
manifestations.  The  children  appear  behind  the  rickety 
fence,  or  perhaps  perched  on  the  giddy  eminence  of  the 
topmost  rail,  and  salute  the  engine  with  the  dumb  show 
of  much  shouting  and  sometimes  of  derision.  An  old 
man  hastily  hobbles  to  the  door  ;  a  woman  busy  in  hang- 
ing out  clothes  in  the  sun  on  the  althea  bushes  desists,  to 
stare ;  the  round-eyed  baby  on  the  doorstep  becomes 
motionless  in  amaze  ;  the  gazing  dogs  wag  approving 
tails  ;  the  farmer,  leaning  on  his  plough-handles,  watches 
it  till  it  is  but  a  speck  in  the  distance ;  a  cow  in  the 
pasture  breaks  into  a  shambling  run  and  turns  her  head 
to  look  back  in  affright ;  and  near  the  woods-lot  is  a 
panic-stricken  filly,  plunging,  and  kicking,  and  snorting. 
And  however  often  the  sight  of  it  may  be  vouchsafed, 
always  the  great  splendid  burnished  motor,  with  its 
clouds  of  white  steam,  its  thunderous  gait,  its  servitors 
standing  upon  the  platforms,  and  all  its  trains  of  loaded 
coaches,  from  which  human  faces  look  forth,  to  be  cu- 
riously scanned,  is  thus  greeted.  But  at  night  a  mystery 
hangs  about  it.  The  reverberations  of  its  footsteps  may 
sound  in  the  deepest  dreams.  Where  is  the  darkness  so 
dense,  when  is  the  storm  so  wild,  that  it  cannot  make  its 


386  IN   THE   CLOUDS. 

way  as  it  lists  ?  It  seems  then  to  these  simple  folks  like 
some  development  of  abnormal  force,  as  it  rends  the 
gloom  with  its  white  glare,  as  it  skims  the  denser 
medium  of  the  earth  like  a  meteor  through  the  sky,  —  or 
some  strange  serpent  with  a  glittering  eye,  drawing 
swiftly  its  sparkling  lengths  along.  The  rocks  clamor 
with  the  wild  clangors  it  has  taught  them,  and  the  tu- 
multuous, exultant  shrieks  of  its  whistle  pierce  the  night. 
And  for  a  time  after  it  is  gone  the  rails  shiver  with  the 
thought  of  it,  and  the  hills  cry  out  again  and  again  with 
fear. 

It  might  appear  that  in  the  river  lurks  some  danger 
for  this  hold  marauder  ;  always  it  slackens  its  speed  and 
bates  its  voice  when  it  approaches  the  bridge,  and  gives 
to  the  current  a  thousand  glittering  gauds  of  reflection. 
If  the  hour  is  not  too  late,  the  wayside  family  gather  at 
the  door  to  watch  the  train  cross.  When  it  reaches  the 
other  side,  and  speeds  away  with  a  loud  cry  of  triumph 
and  a  renewed  redundancy  of  motion,  the  old  man  turns, 
with  an  air  of  disappointment  and  a  wag  of  the  head  and 
a  muttered  insistence  :  "  Can't  do  that  thar  fool  trick 
every  time."  He  had  opposed  the  theory  of  railroads, 
and  had  looked  for  a  judgment  to  descend ;  in  especial 
he  had  watched  the  building  of  the  bridge  in  a  spirit  of 
indignation,  prophesying  that  there  would  be  a  "  big 
drownding"  there  one  day,  and  had  even  lavished  his 
advice  upon  the  engineer  in  charge  of  the  work,  who, 
nevertheless,  did  not  desist.  Always  he  was  convinced 
that  that  gossamer  web,  that  union  of  strength  and  light- 
ness, would  give  way  sometime  under  the  weight,  and 
one  spring  night,  as  he  hobbled  to  the  door  as  usual  to 
look  at  the  flying  and  fiery  dragon,  no  longer  mythical, 
the  catastrophe  seemed  imminent. 

There  was  a  variety  of  passengers  in  the  smoking-car. 
The  commercial  traveler,  returning  with  the  swallow,  was 
taking  his  way  once  more  to  the  places  that  knew  him. 
Conference  had  been  held  in  a  neighboring  town,  and 
the  reverend  gentlemen,  homeward  bound,  were  secular 
of  aspect,  genial  and  jolly,  enveloped  in  clouds  of  tobacco 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  387 

•moke  of  their  own  making.  The  deputy-sheriff  of 
Cherokee  County  was  on  board,  and  in  his  charge  was 
Mink  Lorey,  on  his  way  to  stand  his  new  trial  in  Shaftes- 
ville,  handcuffed  with  Pete  Owens,  of  the  same  county, 
who  had  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  his  temper  on  a  small 
provocation,  and  to  kill  his  brother.  They  and  the  guards 
were  also  a  merry  party.  The  deputy  was  undisguisedly 
glad  to  see  Mink  again,  and  rehearsed  for  his  benefit  the 
news  from  the  town,  and  the  rumors  from  the  coves,  and 
the  vague  echoes  from  the  mountains,  as  he  sat  facing 
his  prisoner,  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  fanning  himself 
with  his  hat,  now  and  then  tousling  his  rough  hair  with 
one  hand  as  he  laughed,  as  if  to  add  this  dishevelment 
to  the  contortions  and  grotesqueness  of  his  hilarity. 

Mink  listened  with  the  wistful  attention  of  one  for 
whom  all  these  things  are  forever  past.  This  world  of 
redundant  interest  was  to  be  his  world  no  more.  Already 
it  wore  only  the  tender  glamours  of  memory.  The  brown 
shadows  and  yellow  lights  from  the  lamps  were  shifting 
and  shoaling,  as  the  train  jogged  and  lurched  continually. 
The  fluctuating  gleams  showed  that  his  face  was  a  trifle 
thin,  perhaps ;  the  expression  of  his  vivid  brown  eyes 
had  changed  ,  they  were  desperate  and  hardened,  but 
quickly  glancing  and  even  brighter  and  larger  than  before- 
His  white  wool  hat  was  thrust  on  the  back  of  his  head 
as  he  leaned  against  the  red  velvet  cushion,  and  his 
auburn  hair,  longer  than  ever,  curled  down  upon  the 
collar  of  his  brown  jeans  coat.  Now  and  then,  when 
the  deputy  waxed  facetious,  Mink  laughed  aloud  in 
sympathy. 

The  moon  was  a-journeying,  too,  with  all  the  train  of 
stars.  Always  through  the  open  window  one  could  find 
a  serene  transition  from  the  interior,  with  its  gaudy 
colors,  its  lounging  masculine  figures,  its  wreathing  to- 
bacco smoke,  and  the  suffusion  of  yellow  light  and  alter- 
nating brown  shadow.  The  sky  was  pure  and  blue  ;  the 
young  mountaineer  marked  the  weather-signs  ;  the  wind 
was  astir,  —  a  breeze  other  than  that  caused  by  the 
motion  of  the  train ;  he  saw  the  trees  on  the  hillsides 


388  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

waving  in  the  sweet  spontaneity  of  the  air  ;  he  noted  the 
shadow  of  the  great  locomotive  swiftly  traversing  the 
wheat-fields,  with  its  piles  of  smoke  scurrying  behind  it, 
and  seeming  not  less  material.  He  leaned  toward  the 
window,  and  called  to  the  deputy  to  mark  how  forward 
the  crops  were.  And  then  he  fell  back  with  a  white 
despair  on  his  face,  for  the  train  was  thundering  through 
a  forest,  and  the  interfulgent  sheen  and  shadow  amongst 
the  great  trees  had  caught  the  woodland  creature's  eye. 
The  sylvan  fragrance  came  to  him  for  a  moment.  The 
fair,  lonely  vista  lured  him.  How  long,  how  long  it  had 
been  since  he  had  trodden  such  wilds !  Rocks  towered 
in  the  midst,  and  he  was  glad  when  they  closed  about 
the  way,  and  the  reverberating  clamors  of  the  cut  drowned 
the  groan  that  burst  from  him.  And  then  they  grew 
fainter,  and  here  were  the  levels  once  more,  and  sud- 
denly —  the  Tennessee  River !  How  should  he  fail  to 
know  its  splendid  breadth  and  muscle,  its  majestic  sinu- 
osity as  it  curved  I  He  leaned  once  more  toward  the 
window,  catching  at  the  sill ;  the  man  with  whose  hand 
his  own  was  manacled  complained  of  the  strain.  He 
dropped  his  hand,  and  once  more  looked  out  as  the  train, 
at  a  bated  and  circumspect  pace,  drew  its  slow  length  upon 
the  bridge.  Most  of  the  passengers  were  looking  out, 
too,  under  the  fascination  that  the  water  of  a  landscape 
always  exerts  upon  travelers.  The  moon  hung  above  the 
broad  vista  of  the  dark,  lustrous  stream,  flinging  upon 
its  surface  some  gigantic  magical  corolla,  softly  refulgent, 
to  float  on  the  water  like  a  great  white  lily.  The  dense 
forests,  with  a  deeper  gloom  of  shadow  at^  their  roots, 
stood  solemn  and  silent  on  either  hand.  The  glare  of 
the  head-light  fell  distorted  on  the  ripples,  and  the  lan- 
terns of  the  brakemen  evoked  twinkling  reflections  below. 
The  dank  vernal  odors  from  the  banks  came  in  on  the 
breeze,  and  the  wheels  rolled  slowly,  and  yet  more  slowly  ; 
they  were  just  beginning  to  accelerate  their  speed  when 
one  of  the  passengers,  glancing  within  to  comment  to  a 
friend,  saw  the  lithe  young  prisoner  rise  suddenly  and 
liberate  his  hand  with  a  violent  jerk,  while  his  companion 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  389 

in  shackles  with  a  hoarse  cry,  clutched  frantically  at  him. 
The  guard  turned  with  a  start,  as  the  young  mountaineer, 
with  an  indescribably  swift  and  elastic  bound,  sprang 
through  the  window  and  caught  the  timbers  of  the  bridge. 
A  violent  jerk,  a  bell's  sharp  jangle,  and  an  abrupt  shiver 
ran  through  all  the  length  of  the  train.  Then  the  reflec- 
tion of  the  glare  of  the  head-light  and  the  lesser  gleaming 
points  in  the  river  were  motionless.  The  train  was  at  a 
stand-still  in  the  middle  of  the  bridge.  A  wild  clamor 
arose  from  many  voices ;  the  brakemen  on  the  platforms 
flashed  their  lanterns  back  and  forth ;  a  heavy  body 
sprang  into  the  swift  waters  with  a  great  splash,  and  the 
sharp  crack  of  a  pistol  echoed  from  the  dark  woods  on 
either  bank. 

The  startled  passengers  were  treated  to  a  fine  display  of 
conflicting  authorities  as  they  poured  out  on  the  platform 
of  the  smoking-car,  where  it  seemed  that  the  conductor 
of  the  train  was  laboring  under  the  delusion  that  he 
could  arrest  the  deputy-sheriff  of  Cherokee  County. 

"  You  had  no  right  to  pull  the  bell-cord  and  stop  my 
train,  —  and  stop  it  on  the  bridge !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  'm  bound  ter  ketch  my  prisoner !  "  cried  the 
deputy-sheriff,  wildly.  "  He  was  handcuffed  with  this 
one,  and  he  slipped  his  paw  out  somehow,  an'  lept  through 
the  window,  an'  perched  thar  on  that  timber  o'  the 
bredge ;  an'  I  knowed  he  war  expectin'  the  train  ter  go 
right  on,  an'  I  pulled  the  rope  ter  stop  it.  I  'd  hev  hed 
him,  —  I  'd  hev  hed  him,  ef  the  durned  Mink  hed  n't  tuk 
ter  the  water  !  Lemme  go  !  Lemme  go !  " 

But  the  train  was  in  motion  again,  slowly  crossing  the 
bridge,  and  the  officer  could  only  rush  to  a  window  and 
look  wildly  over  the  waters,  illumined  by  the  head-light 
and  the  glimmer  of  the  moon,  and  fire  at  devious  black 
floating  objects  that  showed  resemblance  to  the  head  of 
a  swimming  man  struggling  for  his  life.  Several  of  the 
passengers  derived  great  sport  from  this  unique  target- 
shooting,  and  the  quiet  was  invaded  with  cries  of  excite- 
ment mingled  with  the  reiterations  of  the  pistol  pealing 
over  the  water.  There  !  a  fair  shot !  the  object  sinks,  — 


390  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

only  a  floating  rail,  for  it  is  distinct  as  it  rises  once 
more  to  the  surface ;  and  again  the  balls  make  havoc 
only  among  the  ripples.  The  quarry  eludes,  —  eludes 
strangely.  He  must  have  had  great  practice  in  diving, 
or,  as  one  hopeful  soul  cries  out,  he  must  be  at  the 
bottom  of  the  river. 

Its  current  was  placid  enough  when  the  train  was 
safely  on  the  other  side  at  a  stand-still,  and  the  people 
from  the  little  log-cabin  below  climbed  the  embankment 
to  hear  the  cause  of  the  unprecedented  stoppage.  The 
bridge  did  not  break  on  this  occasion,  but  the  old  man  is 
very  sure  they  cannot  do  this  "  fool  trick  "  again. 

Although  the  train  waited  for  a  time  while  the  banks 
of  the  river  were  patrolled,  it  was  gone  clanging  on  its 
way  long  before  the  rocks  had  ceased  to  echo  the  tramp 
of  excited  horsemen  and  their  hoarse  cries,  as  they  beat 
the  bushes  in  the  neighboring  woods,  for  the  whole  coun- 
try-side was  roused.  The  opinion  that  the  reckless  young 
mountaineer  had,  in  leaping  into  the  river,  struck  against 
some  floating  log,  and  had  been  killed  by  the  concussion, 
or  had  gone  to  the  bottom  among  the  bowlders  with  a 
fatal  force,  gained  ground  as  the  day  gradually  dawned 
and  no  trace  of  him  was  detected. 

By  degrees  the  search  degenerated  into  the  idler  phases 
of  morbid  curiosity.  Many  people  visited  the  spot, 
ostensibly  to  join  in  the  effort,  who  stared  at  the  bridge 
and  speculated  on  its  height,  and  strolled  up  arid  down 
the  banks,  wondering  futilely.  Even  when  the  sunset 
was  reddening  the  river;  when  the  evening  star  was 
tangled  in  the  boughs  of  a  white  pine  on  the  bank  ;  when 
the  sound  of  lowing  Line  was  mellow  on  the  air ;  when 
the  bridge  doffed  its  massive  aspect,  and  became  illusory, 
a  shadow  not  more  material  than  its  shadow  in  the  cur- 
rent below,  —  footing  for  the  moonbeams,  lodgment  for 
the  dew,  a  perch  for  a  belated  bird,  familiar  of  the  mist, 
—  vague  figures  still  lingered  about  the  water-side,  and 
raucous  voices  grated  on  the  evening  air.  But  at  last 
the  darkness  slipped  down ;  the  train  came  and  went ; 
silence  fell  upon  the  river,  save  for  its  own  meditative, 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  391 

iterative  voice,  the  croaking  of  frogs,  and  the  exquisite 
melody  of  the  mocking-bird,  as  he  sang  in  the  slant  of 
the  moonbeams  glistening  through  fringes  of  the  pines. 
A  wind  rose  and  died  away.  The  night  was  inexpress- 
ibly solitary.  Far  off  a  clog  howled.  The  constellations 
imperceptibly  tended  westward.  And  presently,  in  the 
dark  loneliness  of  the  dead  hour,  something,  —  an  otter, 
a  musk-rat,  a  mink  ?  —  some  stealthy  wild  thing,  stirred 
itself  at  the  water's  edge,  beneath  a  broad  ledge  of  the 
jagged,  beetling  rocks  along  the  bank,  under  the  current, 
on  the  gravelly  shallows.  It  made  much  commotion; 
the  water  receded  in  widening  circles  far  out  toward  the 
middle  of  the  river,  —  a  scramble,  a  stroke  or  two,  and 
it  rose  to  its  full  height,  and  waded  to  the  shore  ;  for  it 
was  the  battered  image  of  a  man.  He  wore  no  hat ;  his 
long  locks  hung  in  straight  wisps  down  upon  his  shoulders. 
He  glanced  about  him  continually  with  fearful  eyes,  as 
he  hobbled  stiffly  up  the  bank.  Once  he  sat  down  on 
the  ro.ots  of  a  tree  in  the  shadow,  and  essayed  to  draw 
off  the  great  boots,  heavy  with  water,  and  hampering  his 
every  motion.  But  the  leather,  so  long  steeped,  had 
swelled,  and  he  could  not  divest  himself  of  them. 

"  Mought  lose  'em,  ennyhow,  ef  I  war  ter  take  'em 
off,"  he  said,  sturdily  adapting  his  optimism  to  the  cum- 
brous impediments.  And  so  he  limped  on.  He  shivered 
in  every  limb.  Over  and  again  his  breath  seemed  to 
fail  him.  More  than  once  his  head  whirled,  and  he 
leaned  against  a  tree  to  steady  himself.  The  air  was 
chill,  but  although  the  wind  blew  he  was  not  sorry ;  it 
would  the  earlier  dry  his  garments. 

"  An'  I  reckon  I  hev  done  cotch  all  the  rheumatic  I 
kin  hold,  ennyways,  a-layin'  thar  under  the  aidge  o'  the 
ruver,  half  kivered  with  water  fur  a  night  an'  a  day." 

When  the  woods  began  to  give  way  to  fields  he  hung 
back,  feeling  desolate  and  affrighted.  How  could  he 
barter  these  sheltering  shadows,  this  nullifying  darkness, 
for  those  wide,  exposed  spaces  of  the  pasture  ?  Its 
dewy  slope,  with  here  and  there  an  outcropping  rock,  but 
never  a  bush  nor  a  tree,  lay  under  the  slanting  light  of 


392  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

the  moon.  The  mountains,  however,  he  knew  were  in 
that  direction  ;  and  presently  he  took  courage  to  climb 
the  fence,  and  with  his  hobbling  shadow  at  his  side,  — 
from  which  he  sometimes  shrunk  with  sudden  fear, 
glancing  over  his  shoulder  askance,  —  skulked  across 
the  grassy  expanse,  now  in  the  melancholy  sheen,  and  now 
in  the  vague  shade  of  a  drifting  cloud.  There  were 
sheep  huddled  and  white,  at  one  side  of  the  slope,  all 
asleep,  save  one,  that  held  its  head  up  and  looked  at  him 
with  a  contemplative  eye  as  he  passed.  A  dog  seemed 
their  only  guardian.  He  did  not  bark,  but  came  down 
toward  the  stranger  with  a  sinister  growl.  Mink  had 
no  fear  of  dogs,  and  somehow  they  trusted  him.  The 
shepherd  sniffed  in  surprise  at  his  heels,  bounded  up  to 
lick  his  hand,  followed  with  a  wagging  tail  till  he 
climbed  the  fence,  and  regretfully  saw  him  take  his  way 
down  the  road.  For  his  courage  was  renewed  by  its 
own  achievements.  He  was  bold  enough  presently  to 
invade  a  garden  where  potatoes  had  lately  been  planted, 
and  he  dug  up  the  sliced  fragments,  each  carefully  cut 
that  it  might  contain  two  or  more  u  eyes."  He  found, 
too,  some  turnips,  and  was  greatly  refreshed  and  strength- 
ened by  his  surreptitious  meal.  As  he  rose  from  the 
garden  border  and  turned  away  among  the  currant 
bushes,  he  was  confronted  suddenly  by  the  figure  of  a 
man.  He  sprang  back,  his  heart  plunging.  He  thought 
for  a  moment  that  he  was  discovered.  And  yet  —  it 
stood  so  strangely  still.  Only  a  suit  of  clothes  stuffed 
with  straw,  and  surmounted  by  an  ancient  and  battered 
hat. 

Mink  gazed  gravely  at  the  scarecrow,  that  had  sur- 
passed its  evident  destiny  in  frightening  that  larger  fowl, 
a  jail-bird. 

It  might  seem  that  with  the  weight  of  his  heavy  cares, 
the  anguish  of  his  forlorn  plight,  the  dispiriting  influence 
of  his  imprisonment,  the  jeopardy  of  his  tortured  free- 
dom, his  doubtful  future,  —  exhausted,  chilled,  sore,  — 
he  would  find  scant  amusement  or  relish  in  the  grotesque 
image.  One  might  wonder  at  the  zest  with  which  he 


7,V  THE  CLOUDS.  393 

applied  himself,  with  convulsive,  feeble  efforts,  to  uproot 
the  pole  that  sustained  it.  He  conveyed  it  across  the 
garden,  —  daring  the  dogs,  —  and  placed  the  scarecrow 
where  it  might  seem  to  peer  into  the  front  window  of 
the  house.  He  stood  looking  at  it  with  intense  satisfac- 
tion for  a  moment,  —  so  like  a  man  it  was  !  He  could 
forecast  how  the  women  of  the  household  would  cry 
aloud  with  terror  when  they  should  see  it,  how  the  mys- 
tified men  would  stare  and  swear.  He  did  not  laugh  ; 
the  feat  in  some  other  method  satisfied  his  sense  of  the 
ludicrous.  It  did  not  occur  to  him  as  a  futile  waste  of  his 
time  and  strength,  —  of  both  he  presently  stood  in  sore 
need.  For  the  day  was  breaking  when  he  still  trudged 
between  the  zigzag  lines  of  farm  fences,  along  a  road 
that  bore  evidences  of  much  travel,  in  a  country  which 
he  did  not  know,  of  which  the  only  familiar  objects  were 
the  dying  moon  and  the  slowly  developing  outline  of  the 
Great  Smoky  Mountains,  far  away. 

"  I  '11  git  ter  Shaftesville  in  time  ter  stan'  my  trial,  ef 
I  don't  mind,  'fore  the  dep'ty  does,"  he  said  to  himself 
in  a  panic. 

Nowhere  were  forests  visible  promising  shelter.  Here 
and  there  a  limited  woods-lot  lined  the  road  ;  more  often 
fields  of  corn,  barely  showing  tender  sprouts  above  the 
ground,  or  stretches  of  winter  wheat  or  millet,  or  pas- 
tures. He  was  in  the  midst  of  a  scene  of  exclusive  agri- 
cultural significance,  when  the  startling  sound  of  wagon 
wheels  broke  upon  the  air,  and  the  figure  of  a  man  driv- 
ing a  pair  of  strong  mules  rose  gradually  from  over  the 
brow  of  the  hill. 

Mink's  clothes  were  already  dry ;  his  hair  curled 
freshly  once  more,  but  he  was  painfully  conscious  of  the 
lack  of  his  hat,  and  he  knew  that  the  teamster's  eyes 
rested  upon  him  in  surprise.  The  man  drew  up  his 
mules  at  once.  But  the  wily  fugutive  hailed  him  first. 

"  Howdy,"  Mink  remarked,  advancing  sturdily,  put- 
ting one  foot  on  the  hub  of  the  front  wheel  and  his  hand 
on  the  off  mule's  back,  and  looking  up  with  his  bold, 
bright  eyes  at  the  driver.  "  Do  you  -  uns  hail  from 
nighabouts  ?  " 


394  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  Down  yander  at  Peters'  Cross-Roads,"  responded 
the  stranger  promptly. 

"  I  ax  kase  I  'lowed  mebbe  ye  bed  hearn  some  word 
o'  that  thar  prisoner  ez  got  away  from  the  sher'ff  o' 
Cher'kee  County,  —  Reuben  Lorey." 

"  Mink  Lorey,  I  hearn  his  name  war,"  corrected  the 
teamster. 

"Waal,"  —  Mink's  careless  glance  wandered  aim- 
lessly up  and  down  the  sunny  road,  —  "  he  oughter  be 
named  Mink,  ef  he  ain't ;  mean  enough." 

"  Ye  're  'quainted  with  him,  I  reckon,"  said  the  team- 
ster, still  looking  at  his  hatless  head. 

"  Mighty  well !  He  hev  gin  me  a  heap  o'  trouble. 
I  dunno  but  I  'd  nigh  ez  soon  he  'd  be  in  the  bottom  o' 
the  Tennessee  Ruver  ez  not.  We-uns  hail  from  the 
same  valley,  —  Hazel  Valley." 

"  What  ye  doin'  'thout  no  hat  ?  "  demanded  the  satur- 
nine, perplexed,  and  vaguely  suspicious  man. 

"  Lost  it  in  the  ruver.  Been  fishin'.  I  hev  been 
visitin'  some  folks  in  the  flatwoods  ez  I  be  mighty  well 
'quainted  with.  I  'm  goin'  ter  git  me  another  hat  at 
the  store." 

There  was  a  pause. 

*•  They  'low  that  thar  man  war  drownded,"  said  the 
teamster,  discursively. 

'•  Waal,"  said  Mink,  drawlingly,  "  I  'lowed  I  'd  ax, 
so  ez  when  I  git  ter  Hazel  Valley  I  mought  tell  his  folks 
a  straight  tale." 

The  teamster's  wonderment,  being  satisfied  as  to  the 
bare  head  of  the  young  fellow,  he  was  eager  to  proceed 
on  his  journey.  Certainly  all  imaginable  suspicions 
must  have  been  allayed  by  the  pertinacity  with  which 
Mink  hung  upon  the  wheel,  and  talked  about  the  rheu- 
matism he  feared  he  had  caught  a-fishing,  and  declared 
he  had  found  no  sport  in  it. 

Finally,  with  apparent  reluctance,  he  took  his  foot 
from  off  the  hub,  and  the  teamster  was  glad  to  go  creak- 
ing along  on  his  journey. 

Although  the  danger  was  so  successfully  thwarted,  the 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  395 

strain  upon  his  ingenuity,  his  nerves,  and  his  presence 
of  mind  had  told  heavily  upon  Mink's  reserve  force  of 
strength  and  courage.  When  at  last  he  reached  the 
deep  woods  he  was  more  dead  than  alive,  as  he  flung 
himself  down  in  the  hollow  of  a  poplar-tree,  struck  long 
ago  by  lightning,  —  its  great  length  fallen,  its  branches 
burned,  only  its  gigantic  stump  standing  to  boast  the 
proportions  this  chief  of  the  savage  wilds  had  borne. 
The  young  mountaineer  doubted,  as  he  fell  asleep,  if 
he  would  ever  wake.  But  exhaustion  did  not  prevail. 
Over  and  again,  with  a  nervous  start,  consciousness 
would  seize  upon  him,  and  he  would  be  himself  long 
enough  to  contrast  his  forlorn  plight  with  the  feignings  of 
his  dream,  and  so  sink  again  into  troubled  slumber. 
And  yet  it  was  with  a  deep  satisfaction  that  he  gazed 
out  at  intervals  upon  the  lonely  crowded  sylvan  limits. 
The  underbrush  closed  about  him  ;  the  great  trees  up- 
reared  their  heads  against  the  sky,  showing  only  a 
glimpse  of  the  blue  or  a  flake  of  the  burnished  vernal 
sunshine.  How  restful  the  sight,  how  reassuring  the 
sound  of  the  wind  in  the  leaves  !  A  squirrel  frisked  by, 
sleek  and  dapper,  with  a  brilliant,  unaffrighted  eye  and 
a  long  curling  tail.  The  familiar  creature  seemed  like 
a  friend.  "  Howdy,  mister,"  observed  Mink.  "  Ye  air 
one  citizen  ez  I  ain't  afeard  on." 

But  the  squirrel  came  no  more,  although  ever  and 
anon  Mink  lifted  himself  to  look  out.  He  noted  the 
moss,  green  and  gray,  on  the  bark  of  a  rotting  log ;  he 
started  to  hear  the  woodpecker  tapping ;  he  listened  for 
a  time  to  a  crested  red-bird's  song,  but  its  iteration  was 
somnolent  in  its  effects,  and  when  Mink  next  opened  his 
eyes  darkness  enveloped  the  world.  He  could  hardly 
say  whom  he  might  be  ;  he  did  not  know  where  he  was. 
The  oppression  of  his  familiar  cell  in  the  Glaston  jail 
filled  his  consciousness  until,  as  he  groped  about  him,  he 
felt  the  rotting  sides  of  the  old  tree  and  realized  that  he 
was  free. 

"  I  mus'  be  a-travelin',"  he  said  to  himself. 

Free,  but  with  so  burning  a  pain  in  every  limb  that  he 


396  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

could  hardly  stand  upon  his  feet ;  and  what  was  this  new 
misfortune  ?  His  forlorn  boots  were  bursting  into  frag- 
ments. As  he  staggered  into  the  moonshine  he  sat  down, 
and  putting  one  foot  on  his  knee  examined  the,  sole  in 
rueful  contemplation. 

"  Now  don't  that  thar  beat  kingdom  come  !  Them 
boots  war  mighty  nigh  new  when  I  went  ter  jail,  an'  I 
never  stood  on  'em  none  thar  sca'cely.  Mus'  hev  been 
the  soakin'  they  got.  I  ain't  useter  goin'  bar'foot  lately, 
an'  how  '11  I  travel  thirty  mile  this-a-way  ?  " 

It  was  at  a  slow  gait  that  he  hobbled  along  ;  now  and 
then  he  stumbled,  and  would  have  fallen  but  for  his 
hasty  clutch  at  a  bush  or  a  tree.  His  feet  were  pierced 
by  flints  through  the  crevices  of  his  boots,  and  he  was 
presently  aware  that  he  was  marking  his  steps  with  his 
blood.  He  made  scant  progress,  although  he  struggled 
strenuously,  and  it  was  long  before  day  when  he  was 
fain  to  lie  down  in  a  rift  in  a  great  bank  of  rocks,  and 
recruit  his  wasted  energies  with  sleep.  "  I  hope  I  ain't 
a-goin'  ter  die  in  sech  a  hole  ez  this,"  he  said,  "  ez  ef  I 
war  a  sure-enough  mink.  But  Laws  a-massy,  what  be  I, 
ef  I  ain't  a  mink  ?  " 

He  laughed  sarcastically  as  he  turned  himself  over. 
He  had  evolved  some  harsh  theories  of  worldly  inequal- 
ities. If  he  had  knocked  Jerry  Price  or  Ben  Doaks 
senseless  with  a  bit  of  iron,  he  argued,  he  would  have 
hardly  been  in  jeopardy  of  arrest ;  the  affair  would  per- 
chance have  been  chronicled  by  the  gossips  as  "  a  right 
smart  fight."  But  he  must  forfeit  twenty  years  of  his 
life  for  assaulting  a  man  of  Gwinnan's  quality.  And  he 
had  some  bitter  reflections  to  divert  his  mind,  with  the 
functions  of  a  counter-irritant,  from  his  aching  bones, 
his  bleeding  feet,  his  overpowering  sense  of  fatigue. 

It  was  the  next  night  —  for  he  again  lay  hidden  all 
day  —  that  he  at  last  passed  through  the  gap  of  the 
mountain  and  entered  Eskaqua  Cove.  His  spirits  had 
risen  at  the  sight  of  the  familiar  things,  —  the  foam  on 
the  river  dancing  in  the  light  of  the  moon,  the  dense 
solemn  forests,  the  great  looming,  frowning  rocks.  He 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  397 

hardly  cared  how  steep  the  hillsides  were,  how  his  sore 
feet  burned  and  ached,  how  heavily  he  dragged  his 
weight.  He  could  have  cried  aloud  with  joy  when  he 
beheld  the  little  foot-bridge  which  he  knew  so  well,  albeit 
he  could  scarcely  stagger  over  the  narrow  log ;  the  low 
little  house  on  the  bank  where  Mrs.  Purvine  lived.  It 
was  dark  and  silent  under  the  silver  moon,  for  the  hour 
was  late,  reckoning  by  rural  habits,  —  about  ten  o'clock, 
he  guessed.  He  hesitated  for  a  moment  when  he  was 
in  the  road  beside  the  fence.  He  thought  he  might 
shorten  the  way  by  crossing  the  corn-field,  for  the  road 
made  a  bend  below.  He  had  climbed  the  fence  and  was 
well  out  in  the  midst  of  the  sprouting  grain,  when  sud- 
denly he  started  back.  There  was  a  shadow  coming  to 
meet  him.  He  could  not  flee.  He  could  not  hope  to 
escape  observation.  And  yet,  when  he  looked  again,  the 
dim  figure  was  curiously  busy,  and  was  not  yet  aware  of 
his  presence.  It  was  the  figure  of  a  woman,  and  he 
presently  recognized  Mrs.  Purvine.  Her  head  was  evi- 
dently much  wrapped  up  against  the  night  air,  and  her 
sun-bonnet  was  fain  to  perch  in  a  peaked  attitude,  in 
order  to  surmount  the  integuments  below ;  it  was  drawn 
down  over  her  face,  and  by  other  means  than  the  sight 
of  her  countenance  he  identified  her.  It  might  seem  an 
uncanny  hour  for  industry,  but  Mink  could  well  divine 
that  Mrs.  Purvine  had  experienced  belated  pangs  of  con- 
science concerning  sundry  rows  of  snap-beans,  left  de- 
fenseless, save  for  her  good  wishes,  against  the  frost. 
She  was  engaged  in  covering  them,  —  detaching  a  long 
board  from  a  pile  beside  the  fence,  and  placing  it  with  a 
large  stone  beneath  either  end  above  the  tender  vegeta- 
ble. Her  shadow  was  doing  its  share,  although  it  gave 
vent  to  none  of  the  pantings  and  puffings  and  sighs  with 
which  the  flesh  protested,  as  it  were,  against  the  labor. 
It  jogged  along  beside  her  on  the  brown  ground  in 
dumpy  guise,  and  stooped  down,  and  rose  up,  and  set  its" 
arms  akimbo  to  complacently  observe  the  effect  of  the 
board,  and  even  wore  a  sun-bonnet  at  the  same  impossi- 
ble angle.  It  started  off  with  corresponding  alacrity  to 


398  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

the  pile  to  fetch  another  board  for  another  row,  and  was 
very  busy  as  it  stooped  down  to  adjust  a  stone  beneath. 
It  even  sprang  back  and  threw  up  both  arms  in  sudden 
affright,  when  Mrs.  Pur  vine  exclaimed  aloud.  For  a 
deft  hand  had  lifted  the  other  end  of  the  board,  and  as 
she  glanced  around  she  saw  a  man  kneeling  on  the 
mould  and  placing  the  stone  so  that  the  delicate  snap- 
beans might  be  sheltered. 

"  In  the  name  o'  Moses  !  "  faltered  Mrs.  Purvine  be- 
tween her  chattering  teeth,  as  she  rose  to  her  feet,  "  air 
that  thar  Mink  Lorey  —  or  —  or  "  —  she  remembered 
how  far  away,  how  safe  in  jail,  she  had  thought  him  — 
"  or  his  harnt  ?  " 

Mink  turned  his  pallid  face  toward  her.  She  saw  the 
lustrous  gleam  of  his  dark  eyes. 

He  hesitated  for  a  moment.  Then,  he  could  not  re- 
sist. "  I  died  'bout  two  weeks  ago,"  he  drawled  circum- 
stantially. 

Mrs.  Purvine  stood  as  one  petrified  for  a  moment. 
Then  credulity  revolted. 

"  Naw,  Mink  Lorey  !  "  she  said  sternly.  "  Naw,  sir  ! 
Ye  ain't  singed  nowhar.  Ef  ye  war  dead,  ye  'd  never 
hev  got  back  onscorched."  She  shook  her  enveloped 
head  reprehensively  at  him. 

Regret  had  seized  upon  him.  The  fleeting  privilege 
of  frightening  Mrs.  Purvine  scarcely  compensated  for 
the  risks  he  felt  he  ran  in  revealing  himself. 

He  stood  silent  and  grave  enough  as  she  set  her  arms 
akimbo  and  gazed  speculatively  at  him. 

"  How  d'  ye  git  out'n  jail  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Through  thar  onlockin'  the  door,"  said  Mink. 

Mrs.  Purvine  knitted  her  puzzled  brows. 

"War  they  willin'  fur  ye  ter  leave  ?  "  she  asked,  seek- 
ing to  fathom  the  mystery. 

"Waal,  Mis'  Purvine,"  equivocated  the  fugitive,  jaunt- 
ily, "  I  ain't  never  fund  nobody,  nowhar,  right  up  an' 
down  willin'  fur  me  to  leave  'em.  They  lied  ter  let  me 
go,  though." 

"  Waal,  sir !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Purvine,  with  the  ac- 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  399 

cent  of  disappointment.  "  I  never  b'lieved  ez  Jedge 
Gwinnan  war  in  earnest  whenst  he  promised  Lethe 
Sayles  ter  git  ye  pardoned.  Whenst  she  kem  back  re- 
j'icin'  over  it  so,  I  'lowed  the  jedge  war  jes'  laffin'  at 
her." 

The  man,  staring  at  her  with  unnaturally  large  and 
brilliant  eyes,  recoiled  suddenly,  and  his  shadow  seemed 
to  revolt  from  her  words.  "Jedge  Gwinnan!  pardon!" 
he  cried,  contemptuously,  his  voice  rising  shrilly  into  the 
quiet  night.  "  He  got  me  no  pardon  !  I  'd  hev  none 
off'n  him,  damn  him !  I  'd  bide  in  the  prison  twenty 
year,  forty  year,  —  I  'd  rot  thar,  —  afore  I  'd  take  enny 
faviors  out'n  his  hand  !  Lord !  let  me  lay  my  grip  on 
that  man  one  more  time,  an'  hell  an'  all  the  devils  can't 
pull  me  off  !  " 

His  strength  failed  to  support  his  excitement.  He 
staggered  to  the  pile  of  boards  and  leaned  against  them, 
panting.  Mrs.  Purvine  -noted  how  white  hie  face  was, 
how  exhausted  his  attitude. 

"  Ye  'pear  sorter  peaked,"  she  remarked,  prosaically, 
"  an'  ye  walk  toler'ble  cripple." 

"Yes,"  observed  Mink,  with  his  wonted  manner,  "it 
'peared  ter  me  a  toler'ble  good  joke  ter  jump  off  the 
middle  o'  the  bredge  inter  the  Tennessee  Ruver.  But 
it  turned  out  same  ez  mos'  o'  my  jokes,  —  makes  me 
laugh  on  the  wrong  side  o'  my  mouth." 

Mrs.  Purvine  began  to  understand.  Her  lower  jaw 
dropped.  "  Whar  hev  ye  hed  enny  thing  ter  eat  ?  "  she 
demanded,  with  bated  breath. 

"  Waal,"  said  Mink,  argumentatively,  "  eatin'  's  a 
powerful  expensive  business  ;  we-uns  would  all  save  a 
heap  ef  we  'd  quit  eatin'." 

Mrs.  Purvine  received  this  in  pondering  silence. 
Then  she  broke  forth  suddenly  :  — 

"  Ye  air  a  outdacious,  sassy,  scandalous  mink,  an'  I 
hev  'lowed  ez  much  fur  many  a  year,  but  I  never  looked 
ter  see  the  time  when  ye  'd  kem  an'  prop  yerse'f  up  in 
my  gyarden-spot,  an'  look  me  in  the  eye,  an'  call  me 
stingy.  How  war  I  ter  know  ye  war  n't  ez  full  ez  a  tick, 


400  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

ye  impident  half-liver  ?  I  kin  see  ez  ye  ain't  fat  in  no- 
wise, but  how  kin  I  tell  by  the  creases  in  a  man's  face 
what  he  hed  fur  dinner  ?  " 

"  Laws  -  a  -  massy,  Mis'  Purvine  !  "  exclaimed  Mink, 
truly  contrite  for  the  untoward  interpretation  which  his 
words  seemed  to  bear.  "  I  never  meant  sech  ez  that. 
Ef  it  hed  been  enny  ways  nigh  cookin'  time,  I  'd  hev 
kem  right  in,  —  ef  I  hed  n't  been  afraid  ye  'd  tell  on 
me,  —  an'  axed  ye  fur  a  snack.  Ain't  I  eat  hyar  time 
an'  agin  along  o'  Jerry  Price  ?  I  hev  hed  a  heap  o' 
meals  from  you-uns,  —  more  'n  ye  know  'bout,  fur  I  hev 
treated  yer  watermillion  patch  ez  ef  it  hed  been  my 
own." 

If  Mrs.  Purvine  was  placated,  she  did  not  at  once 
manifest  the  fact.  "  What  d'  ye  know  'bout  cookin' 
time,  or  cookin',  ye  slack-twisted,  lazy,  senseless  critter  ? 
Jes'  kerry  yer  bones  right  inter  that  thar  door,  fur  eat 
ye  hev  got  ter.  In  Moses's  name !  "  she  ejaculated 
piteously,  "  the  boy  kin  sca'cely  walk." 

But  Mink  hesitated.  "  I  don't  wanter  see  Jerry,"  he 
said.  "  I  dunno  what  Jerry  niought  think  'bout'n  it  all." 

"  Jerry  's  dead  asleep,  an'  so  air  all  the  boys,"  declared 
the  industrious  Mrs.  Purvine.  "  Ye  reckon  ye  air  goin' 
ter  find  ennybody  up  this  time  o'  night  'ceptin'  a  hard- 
workin'  old  woman  like  me  ?  I  can't  be  no  surer  o'  ye  'n 
I  be  a'ready.  Go  'long  in,  'fore  I  set  Bose  on  ye." 

He  was  sorry  for  himself,  —  to  gauge  the  joy,  the  com- 
fort, that  the  very  sight  of  the  humble  and  familiar  room 
afforded  him.  The  fire  had  been  covered  with  ashes, 
but  Mrs.  Purvine  promptly  pulled  out  the  coals  and  piled 
on  the  pine  knots,  and  the  white  flare  showed  the  low- 
ceiled  apartment,  the  walls  covered  with  the  old  advertise- 
ments ;  the  puncheon  floor  ;  the  many  strings  of  pepper 
and  hanks  of  yarn  hanging  from  the  beams,  and  the 
quil ting-frame  clinging  to  them  like  a  huge  bat ;  the  two 
high  beds  ;  the  glister  of  the  ostentatious  mirror ;  the 
prideful  clock,  silent  on  the  shelf.  As  the  interior  be- 
came brilliantly  illuminated,  Mink  looked  suspiciously  at 
the  glass  in  the  windows  ;  he  experienced  a  relief  to  note 
that  the  batten  shutters  were  closed. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  401 

"  I  did  n't  want  nobody  ter  git  a  gliinge  o'  me,"  he 
said,  "  'kase  I  dunno  but  what  they  mought  try  ter  hold 
ye  'sponsible  fur  feedin'  me,  cornsiderin'  I  be  a  runaway." 

"  They  ain't  never  ter  goin'  ter  find  out  ez  ye  hev  been 
hyar  now,"  said  Mrs.  Purvine. 

"  They  mought  ax  ye,"  suggested  Mink. 

"  Waal,  lies  air  healthy."  Mrs.  Purvine  accommo- 
dated her  singular  ethics  to  many  emergencies.  "  Church- 
yards air  toler'ble  full,  but  thar  ain't  nobody  thar  ez  died 
from  tellin'  lies.  Not  but  what  I  'm  a  perfessin'  mem- 
ber," she  qualified,  with  a  qualm  of  conscience,  u  an'  hev 
renounced  deceit  in  gineral ;  but  ef  ennybody  kerns  hyar 
inquirin'  roun'  'bout  my  business,  —  what  I  done  with  this 
little  mite  o'  meat,  an'  that  biscuit,  an'  the  t'other  pot 
o'  coffee,  —  I  answer  the  foolish  accordin'  ter  his  folly, 
like  the  Bible  tells  me,  an'  send  him  reji'cin'  on  his 
way." 

Mink,  his  every  fear  relieved,  thought  it  a  snug  haven 
after  the  storms  that  he  had  weathered,  as  he  sat  in  Mrs. 
Purvine's  own  rocking-chair,  and  felt  the  grateful  warmth 
of  the  blaze.  He  had  hardly  hoped  ever  again  to  know 
the  simple  domestic  comforts  of  the  chimney-corner.  The 
coffee  put  new  life  into  him,  and  after  he  had  eaten  the 
hot  ash  cake  and  bacon,  broiled  on  the  coals,  he  took,  at 
her  insistence,  another  cup,  and  drank  it  as  she  sat  op- 
posite him  near  the  hearth.  In  this  last  potation  she 
joined  him,  having  poured  her  coffee  into  a  gourd,  to 
save  the  trouble,  as  she  explained,  of  washing  another 
cup  and  saucer. 

"  How  do  Lethe  keep  her  health  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Fust-rate,"  said  Mrs.  Purvine.  Her  tone  had 
changed.  She  looked  at  him  speculatively  from  under 
the  brim  of  her  sun-bonnet,  which  she  wore  much  of  the 
time  in  the  house.  "  She  air  peart  an'  lively  ez  ever." 

His  lip  curled  slightly.  lie  was  sarcastic  and  critical 
concerning  Alethea's  mental  attitude,  —  the  reaction,  per- 
haps, of  much  rebuke  and  criticism  received  at  her  hands. 

"  I  reckon  she  ain't  missed  me  none,  then  ?  "  he  haz- 
arded. 


402  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  Waal,  she  never  seen  much  o'  you-uns  las'  summer, 
bein'  ez  ye  war  constant  in  keepin'  company  with  Elviry 
then  ;  though  she  's  missed  ye  cornsider'ble.  Ye  need  n't 
never  'low  the  gals  will  furgit  ye,  Mink,"  she  added 
graciously.  "  The  las'  time  Lethe  seen  Jedge  Gwiiman 
she  war  a-beggin'  him  fur  ye,  —  an'  he  promised,  too. 
Lethe  's  pretty  enough  ter  make  a  man  do  mos'  enny- 
thing,  —  leastwise  these  hyar  town  folks  think  so." 

The  color  had  sprung  into  Mink's  face.  He  stood  up 
for  a  moment,  searching  for  Jerry's  tobacco  on  the 
mantelpiece.  He  lighted  his  pipe  by  a  coal  which  he 
scooped  up  with  the  bowl,  and  as  he  put  the  stem  between 
his  lips  he  looked  hard  at  Mrs.  Purvine's  placid  face,  as 
she  drank  her  coffee  from  the  gourd,  and  meditatively 
swung  her  foot ;  the  right  knee  was  crossed  over  the  left ; 
the  other  foot  was  planted  squarely  upon  the  floor  ;  a  nar- 
row section  of  a  stout  gray  stocking  was  visible  above  a 
leather  shoe,  laced  incongruously  with  a  white  cotton  cord, 
the  kitten  having  carried  off  its  leather  string,  and  Mrs. 
Purvine  continually  "  disremembering,"  to  more  properly 
supply  its  place. 

"  Ben  Doaks,  —  air  he  still  thinkin'  'bout  marryin' 
Lethe  ?  "  demanded  Mink  between  a  series  of  puffs. 

"  Ef  he  air,  he  air  barkin'  up  the  wrong  tree,  I  kin  tell 
ye  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Purvine,  angrily.  u  Lethe  Sayles 
air  goin'  ter  marry  a  town  man,  —  leastwise  that 's  what 
all  the  kentry  air  sayin'.  He  'lows  she  be  plumb  beauti- 
ful !  An'  I  always  did  think  so,  though  she  air  my  own 
niece,"  as  if  this  ought  to  be  an  obstacle.  "  I  names  no 
names,"  —  which  would  have  been  difficult,  under  the 
circumstances,  —  "  but  he  air  a  town  man,  an'  hev  got  a 
high  place,  an'  air  well  off.  Some  folks  don't  keer  nuthin' 
'bout  money,  but  I  ain't  one  of  'em.  An'  he  air  o'  good 
folks,  —  fust-rate  stock  ;  an'  I  sets  store  on  fambly,  too." 

Mink  was  leaning  forward,  with  his  elbows  on  his 
knees  ;  his  eyes  burned  upon  her  face  ;  his  pipe-stem  was 
quivering  in  his  gaunt  hand. 

"  Whar  did  she  meet  up  with  him  ?  " 

"  Down  in  Shaftesville,  when  she  went  ter  testify  fur 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  403 

you-uns,"  said  Mrs.  Purvine.  Then,  with  her  sudden 
felicity  of  inspiration.  "  He  seen  her  fust  in  the  court- 
room, an'  he  war  smitten  at  sight." 

She  could  not  accurately  define  the  impression  she  was 
making.  But  she  grew  a  little  frightened  as  she  watched 
the  keen,  clear-cut  face,  changing  unconsciously,  respon- 
sive to  her  intimations  ;  his  wild  dark  eyes,  in  no  sort 
tamed  or  dimmed,  dwelt  steadily  on  the  white  vistas  of 
the  fire ;  his  fine  red  hair  was  tossed  back,  curling  on  his 
collar.  As  she  looked  at  him,  constrained  to  note  how 
handsome  he  was,  she  wished  very  heartily,  poor  woman, 
that  that  mythical  fortunate  suitor  had  added  to  the 
charming  qualities  with  which  she  had  e«dowed  him  the 
simple  essential,  existence. 

Mink  burst  suddenly  into  a  satiric  laugh,  startling  to 
hear.  Mrs.  Purvine  turned  upon  him,  the  gourd  trem- 
bling in  her  hand. 

"  Ye  ain't  got  no  manners,  Mink  Lorey,"  she  said, 
trying  to  resume  her  note  of  superficial  severity.  "  What 
be  ye  a-laffin'  at  ?  " 

"  Jes'  at  thoughts,"  he  said  enigmatically  ;  "  thoughts  !  " 

"  Thoughts  'bout  me,  I  '11  be  bound,"  said  Mrs.  Pur- 
vine aggressively. 

"  Naw  ;  jes'  'bout  Lethe  an'  that  thar  town  man."  He 
whirled  from  the  fire,  and  walked  up  and  down  the  floor 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 

"  Waal,  don't  ye  say  no  mo'  'bout'n  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Purvine,  desirous  of  contemplating  him  no  longer,  "  an' 
don't  ye  ax  me  who  he  be  —  fur  I  won't  tell  ye  !  " 

"  TKar  ain't  no  need  ter  ax  ye  ;  I  know." 

Mrs.  Purvine  pondered  on  this  for  a  moment.  She 
forgot  it  in  her  effort  to  persuade  the  young  fellow  to 
accept  the  hospitalities  of  the  spare  bedroom,  of  which 
she  was  so  proud.  "  Ye  kin  jest  stay  in  thar  all  night, 
Mink,  an'  all  ter-morrer.  Ye  won't  wake  up  fur  no  break- 
fus'  arter  the  tramp  ye  hev  hed,  an'  a  long  sleep  '11  ease 
yer  bones.  An'  ter-morrer  night,  'bout  ten  o'clock,  arter 
all  the  chill'n  hev  gone  ter  sleep  I  '11  gin  ye  a  good  meal, 
an'  ye  kin  set  out,  heartened  up  an'  strong.  I  'd  ruther 


404  /.v   THE   CLOUDS. 

Jerry  an'  the  boys  did  n't  know  'bout  yer  bem'  hyar,  'kase 
I  dunno  what  the  law  does  ter  folks  ez  holps  them  ez  be 
runnin'  from  jestice  —  or  injestice  ;  'bout  the  same  thing, 
ez  fur  ez  I  kin  make  cut.  An'  I  don't  want  them  ter  git 
inter  trouble." 

"  Mebbe  the  sher'ff  '11  kem  arter  you-uns,"  Mink 
warned  her. 

"  Waal,  I  '11  tell  him  I  ain't  got  no  time  to  waste,  an' 
ter  take  himself  off  the  way  he  kem  ;  "  and  Mrs.  Purvine 
dismissed  the  imaginary  officer  with  a  lofty  sniff. 

It  seemed  to  Mrs.  Purvine,  the  next  day,  that  many 
immediate  requisites  were  stowed  away  temporarily  in  the 
bedroom.  She  was  continually  on  the  alert  to  prevent 
Jerry  or  the  boys  from  invading  it.  *'  Keep  out  'n  that 
thar  bedroom.  I  ain't  keerin'  ef  ye  ain't  got  no  symblin' 
seed.  I  ain't  goin'  ter  let  ye  s'arch  thar.  I  hev  got 
all  my  fine  quilts  what  I  pieced  myself  —  ceptin'  with  a 
leetle  help  from  Lethe  Sayles  —  a-hangin'  up  thar  ter  air. 
Hang  'em  up  in  the  sun,  ye  say  ?  Who  d  'ye  reckon 
wants  ter  fade  them  gay  colors  out?  " 

When  at  last  Jerry  desisted  in  deference  to  this  new 
strange  whim,  one  of  the  boys  was  beset  with  anxiety  to 
get  his  shoes  which  he  had  set  away  there. 

"That 's  the  way  the  shoe-leather  goes,  —  walkin  '  on 
it,"  said  aunt  Dely  reasonably.  "Naw,  sir!  save  them 
soles,  an'  go  bar'foot.  The  weather  's  warm  now." 

The  youngest,  the  most  pertinacious  and  hard  to  resist, 
was  tumultuous  to  get  a  certain  "  whang  o'  leather  " 
which  Bluff  needed  to  complete  his  gear,  in  order  to  con- 
tinue ploughing. 

"  I  ain't  a-keerin'  ef  one  o'  Bluff's  horns  war  lef '  in 
thar,  an'  he  could  n't  wink  without  it.  I  ain't  goin'  ter 
hev  them  quilts  disturbed." 

She  presently  became  drowsy,  because  of  her  long  vigil 
of  the  preceding  night,  and  placed  her  chair  before  the 
door  that  no  one  might  enter  without  rousing  her,  and 
thus,  a  solemn  sentinel,  she  alternately  knitted  and  nodded 
away  the  afternoon. 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  her  when  the  house   was   still, 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  405 

the  family  all  asleep,  and  the  fugitive's  meal  prepared. 
She  had  taken  special  pains  with  it,  albeit  she  went  about 
it  yawningly,  and  had  filled  a  tin  pail  with  provisions 
that  he  might  carry  with  him. 

She  waited  ten  minutes  or  so  after  all  was  ready. 
She  listened  as  she  knelt  on  the  hearth.  There  was  no 
sound  from  within  but  the  stertorous  breathing  of  the 
sleepers  in  the  roof-room.  From  without  only  the  mur- 
mur of  the  river,  the  croaking  of  a  frog,  the  stir  of  the 
wind  came  in  at  the  open  back  door,  through  which  she 
could  see  the  white  moonshine,  lying  in  lonely  splendor 
upon  the  dark,  prosaic  expanse  of  the  newly  ploughed 
fields.  She  rose  and  closed  it,  that  the  fugitive  might  not 
be  revealed  to  the  casual  eye  of  any  nocturnal  fisherman, 
striking  through  her  domain  on  his  way  to  the  river 
bank.  Then  she  went  to  the  bedroom  door. 

As  she  tapped  on  it,  the  door  moved  under  the  pres- 
sure, and  she  saw  that  it  was  unbuttoned  on  the  inside. 
"  Thak  thar  keerless  boy  ought  ter  hev  buttoned  this 
door!"  she  exclaimed,  t*  The  sher'ff  could  hev  gone 
right  in  and  nabbed  him  whilst  he  war  asleep.  Ye 
Mink  !  Mink  !  " 

There  was  no  answer. 

"  Waal,  sir !  I  never  seen  the  beat."  Then  in  im- 
perative crescendo,  "  Ye  Mink  !  " 

She  pushed  the  door  open,  presently.  The  moonlight 
slanted  through  the  porch  and  into  the  little  bedroom, 
revealing  the  bed,  empty,  the  room  deserted  save  for 
Mrs.  Purvine's  rows  of  dresses  hanging  by  the  neck,  and 
the  piles  of  quilts  on  a  shelf,  rising  in  imposing  propor- 
tions to  attest  her  industry  and  a  little  help  from  Lethe 
Sayles. 

He  had  fled,  —  when,  why  ?  She  could  not  say  ;  she 
could  not  imagine.  She  stood  staring,  with  a  vacillating 
expression  on  her  face.  She  was  ready  for  an  outburst 
of  futile  anger,  could  she  construe  it  as  one  of  his  mink- 
ish  tricks  ;  he  might  even  now  be  far  away,  laughing  to 
picture  how  she  would  look  when  she  would  stand  at  the 
open  door  and  find  the  room  empty.  Her  face  reddened 


406  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

at  the  thought.  But  perhaps,  she  argued,  more  gener- 
ously, he  had  taken  some  alarm,  and  fled  for  safety. 

Mrs.  Purvine  had  had  no  experience  in  keeping 
secrets,  and  her  colloquial  habits  were  such  as  did  not 
tend  to  cultivate  the  gift.  More  than  once,  the  next 
day,  as  she  pondered  on  the  mysterious  disappearance 
of  Mink,  she  would  drop  her  hands  and  exclaim  in 
meditative  wonderment,  "  Waal !  waal !  waal !  This 
woiT  !  This  worl'  !  an'  a  few  mo'  ekal  ter  it." 

It  went  hard  with  her  to  resist  the  curious  question- 
ings that  this  demonstration  was  calculated  to  excite. 
But  when  asked  what  she  was  talking  about  she  would 
only  reply  in  enigmatical  phrase,  "  Laros  to  ketch  med- 
dlers !  "  and  shake  her  head  unutterably.  Nevertheless, 
when  it  became  evident  that  her  household  had  ex- 
hausted all  their  limited  wiles  to  elicit  the  mystery  of 
which  she  seemed  suddenly  and  incomprehensibly  pos- 
sessed, and  had  reluctantly  desisted,  her  resolution  grew 
weaker  instead  of  stronger,  and  she  was  bereft  of  a 
piquant  interest  in  their  queries  and  guesses.  She  began 
herself  to  play  around  the  dangerous  subject ;  her  re- 
marks seemed  to  excite  no  suspicion  and  no  surprise,  and 
thus  she  was  astonished  in  her  turn. 

"  I  wonder,  Jerry,"  she  said,  as  he  and  she,  their 
pipes  freshly  lighted  after  supper,  strolled  about  the 
"  gyarden-spot "  to  note  how  the  truck  was  thriving, 
Bose  and  a  comrade  or  two  at  their  heels,  —  "I  wonder 
how  high  that  thar  new  bredge  be  over  the  Tennessee 
Ruver?" 

"  Never  medjured  it,"  returned  Jerry,  his  eyes  twin- 
kling as  they  met  her  serious  gaze. 

"  Ye  g'  'long  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Purvine  tartly.  She 
was  addressing  only  the  unfilial  spirit  that  prompted 
his  reply,  for  she  had  no  intention  of  dismissing  the 
audience,  as  she  resumed  at  once  in  her  usual  tone. 
"  Waal,  from  all  ye  hev  hearn,  would  n't  ye  'low  ez 
ennybody  jumpin'  off'n  it  war  'bleeged  ter  break  thai- 
neck  ?  "  she  argued. 

"  I  'd  hev  thunk  so,"  admitted  Jerry,  "  but  it  seems 
not." 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  407 

She  looked  sharply  at  him  from  over  her  spectacles 
as  she  canvassed  his  reply.  It  must  have  been  accident. 
How  could  he  know  aught  of  Mink  ?  She  was  for  a 
moment  so  impressed  with  a  sense  of  danger  here  that 
she  took  refuge  in  silence. 

"  Them  peas  '11  hev  ter  be  stuck  afore  long,"  Jerry 
remarked  presently,  complacent  in  their  growth. 

But  the  simple  pleasures  of  a  garden  were  too  insipid 
to  enchain  the  interest  of  the  sophisticated  Mrs.  Pur- 
vine;  her  mind  reverted  to  her  burning  secret  and  the 
many  speculations  to  which  it  gave  rise.  She  hardly 
noted  the  red  sky,  stretching  so  far  above  the  purple 
mountains  ;  the  river,  with  reflections  of  gold  and  pink 
amidst  its  silver  glinting.  In  the  south  Procyon,  star  of 
ill-omen,  swung  in  the  faint  blue  spaces.  A  whip-poor- 
will  sang.  Darkness  impended. 

Once  more  she  skirted  the  forbidden  topic. 

"  Waal,  I  would  n't  advise  nobody  ter  try  it.'*  She 
was  alluding  not  to  the  industrial  necessity  of  sticking 
the  peas,  but  to  jumping  off  the  bridge. 

"  Naw,  sir,"  Jerry  assented  quietly.  "  'Bout  some 
things  Mink  'pears  ter  hev  the  devil's  own  luck,  though 
ginerally  they  run  agin  him.  I  reckon  nobody  but  Mink 
could  hev  lept  from  that  bredge  an'  swum  out'n  the 
ruver  'thout  gittin'  cotched." 

Mrs.  Purvine  trembled  from  head  to  foot.  As  she 
turned  her  face  toward  him  the  light  of  the  evening 
struck  upon  her  glittering  spectacles  in  the  depths  of  her 
sun-bonnet,  and  it  seemed  a  fiery  and  penetrating  gaze 
she  bent  on  her  adopted  son. 

"  In  the  name  o'  Moses,  Jerry  Price  !  "  she  solemnly 
adjured  him.  "  How  did  you-uns  know  enny thing  'bout 
Mink  Lorey  ?  " 

"  Same  way  ye  did,"  said  Jerry,  in  the  accents  of  sur- 
prise. 

Mrs.  Purvine  sat  down  abruptly  on  the  pile  of  boards 
beside  the  fence. 

Jerry,  astonished  at  her  evident  agitation,  proceeded : 

"  Yer  mem'ry   air  failin'  surely,  ef  ye  hev  furgot  ez 


408  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

the  dep'ty  sher'ff  tole  us  'bout'n  it  yestiddy,  —  rid  his 
critter  right  up  thar  ter  the  side  o'  the  fence,  an'  I  lef 
Bluff  whar  I  war  a-ploughin'  an'  went  down  an'  talked 
ter  him." 

"What  war  I  a-doin'  of?"  demanded  Mrs.  Purvine, 
feebly. 

' '  Ye  war  settin'  knittin'  right  in  front  o'  the  bedroom 
door,  —  ter  keep  we-uns  from  raidin'  in  on  them  quilts 
ez  ye  war  airin'  in  the  bedroom  whar  thar  ain't  no  air." 

Mrs.  Purvine  breathed  more  freely.  She  had  a  vague 
memory  of  hearing  a  man  hallooing  at  the  fence,  and  of 
seeing  Jerry  running  to  meet  him ;  the  rest  was  lost  in 
the  deep  slumber  which  she  called  "  dozin'  off,"  as  she 
sat  sentinel  in  front  of  the  door. 

*"  I  mus'  hev  been  noddin',"  she  said,  trembling  again 
at  the  idea  that  the  sheriff  and  the  prisoner  had  been  at 
such  close  quarters.  "  I  never  hearn  none  o'  it." 

"  Waal,"  explained  Jerry,  "  he  hed  traced  Mink  up 
somewhar  nighabouts.  An'  he  war  mighty  keen  ter 
ketch  him.  He  'lowed  Mink  war  a  turrible  fool  ter  hev 
runned  off,  kase  they  hed  n't  lef  Glaston  more  'n  two 
hours  'fore  Mink's  pardon  kem.  Jedge  Gwinnan  hed 
gone  an'  beset  the  gov'nor,  an'  tole  him  't  war  a  plumb 
mistake,  an'  Mink  war  n't  no  reg'lar  jail-bird,  nor  hard- 
ened critter,  nor  nuthin'  but  a  simple  country  boy.  An' 
he  'd  hed  a  reg'lar  martyrdom  o'  injestice,  an'  sech.  An' 
the  'sault  war  jes'  a  boy's  hittin'  a  feller  ez  he  'lowed  war 
gittin'  the  better  o'  him.  'T  war  n't  'count  o'  the  trial. 
He  war  jes'  jealous.  Jedge  Gwinnan  'lowed  ez  the  fight 
war  mighty  onfair,  kase  Mink  war  chained  an'  he  war 
n't.  An'  he  would  n't  hev  let  him  be  prosecuted  ef  he 
could  hev  knowed  it  in  time  ter  hev  helped  it.  An'  ez 
Mink's  case  hed  been  affirmed  by  the  S'preme  Court  the 
gov'nor  pardoned  him.  Skeggs  'lowed  folks  say  the 
gov'nor  war  right  down  glad  ter  do  it,  kase  he  hev  hed 
ter  be  toler'ble  hard  on  some  folks  lately  ez  applied  fur 
pardons  ;  an'  he  war  glad  Mink's  case  kem  along,  kase 
he  did  n't  want  ter  git  onpop'lar,  an'  ter  'pear  set  agin 
mercy  ez  a  constancy." 


/AT  THE   CLOUDS.  409 

"  Waal !  waal !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Piirvine,  divided 
between  surprise  and  an  effort  to  gauge  the  effect  of  this 
intelligence  on  the  prisoner  listening  in  the  little  room. 

';  Skeggs  'lowed  't  war  mighty  mean  in  Mink  ter  hide 
out  an'  leave  him  ter  ketch  all  the  consequences,  —  he  air 
'sponsible  fur  the  'scape,  —  kase  they  don't  want  Mink 
fur  nuthin'  now  but  that  thar  leetle  case  'bout'n  the  mill, 
an'  everybody  knows  Tad  ain't  dead,  an'  Mink  never 
bust  down  the  mill  nohow.  Mr.  Harshaw  'lows  he  seen 
Tad  when  he  war  huntin'  up  in  the  mountings.  An' 
Lethe,  she  seen  him*  An'  Skeggs  air  honin'  an'  moanin' 
'bout'n  it,  an'  'lows  Mink  mought  keni  an'  be  tried,  ef 
he  hed  the  feelins  o'  a  man  stiddier  a  mink." 

Mrs.  Purvine  rose  slowly,  and  bent  her  meditative 
steps  toward  the  door,  wondering  all  the  more  why 
Mink  should  have  disappeared  so  mysteriously,  cogni- 
zant as  he  must  have  been  of  how  his  dangers  had 
lessened,  whither  he  had  gone,  with  what  purpose. 

"  Aunt  Dely,"  said  Jerry,  suddenly,  following  her 
slowly,  "  how  did  ye  know  enny thing  'bout  Mink,  ef 
ye  never  hearn  Skeggs  tell  it  ?  " 

"  Jerry  Price,"   said  Mrs.    Purvine,  sternly,   "  ef 
hed   been   raised  by  yer  aunt  Melindy  Jane,  I  '11 
bound  ye  'd  hev  larned  better  'n  ter  ax  fool  questions 
with  every  breath  ye  draw." 


XXVIII. 

HARSHAW  considered  a  knowledge  of  human  nature 
as  essential  a  tool  of  his  trade  as  the  Tennessee  Reports, 
and  the  common  human  attributes,  so  far  as  he  had  dis- 
cerned them,  were  definitely  abstracted  and  tabulated  in 
his  mind,  —  for  he  was  systematic  mentally. 

Nevertheless,  he  was  profoundly  ignorant  of  these  traits 
as  manifested  in  his  own  personality.  Had  another  mem- 
ber of  the  legislature  risen  in  his  place  one  day,  when  the 
spring  was  just  beginning  to  open,  stating  that  he  desired 
to  make  a  motion  based  on  public  rumor,  to  which  he 
considered  the  attention  of  the  House  should  be  directed, 
Harshaw  could  not  have  failed  to  note  the  ring  of  triumph 
in  the  voice,  the  predatory  gleam  in  the  eye.  the  restive 
eagerness  of  address,  the  swift  fluency  of  excited  words. 
He  would  not  have  been  slow  to  deny  to  the  demonstration 
those  motives  so  insistently  arrogated,  —  public  justice, 
patriotism,  sense  of  duty. 

His  manner  had  riveted  the  attention  of  the  House, 
which  was  more  than  usually  quiet.  It  had  that  sombre, 
undecorative  aspect  common  to  assemblages  exclusively 
of  men.  The  effect  of  uniformity  of  attire  was,  however, 
annulled  in  a  measure  by  the  varying  expressions  in 
countenance,  in  age,  in  attitude.  The  metropolitan  rep- 
resentatives had  a  more  dapper  appearance  than  the 
members  from  the  outlying  districts,  who  were  distin- 
guished by  a  solid  and  serious  mien  that  promised  an 
intolerance  of  flippancy  in  matters  of  religion,  and  morals, 
and  manners. 

Here  and  there  was  a  face  individual  enough  to  arrest 
attention.  Kinsard's  head,  with  its  high,  earnest  brow, 
its  roving,  melancholy  black  eyes,  its  sharp,  characteristic 
features,  stood  out  from  the  rest  in  strong  relief,  cancel- 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  411 

ing  the  heads  about  it  to  a  nebulous  suggestion  of  human- 
ity. He  lounged  in  one  of  the  most  negligent  of  his  dis- 
located postures.  He  had  a  smile  of  bitter  contempt  on 
his  face,  which  bore  no  relation  to  his  attitude  of  indiffer- 
ence, and  expressed  an  energy  of  anger  which  he  was  at 
a  loss  how  best  to  wreak.  More  than  once  he  looked 
away  from  Harshaw,  as  if  to  divert  his  thoughts,  to  allay 
his  irritation,  by  the  contemplation  of  the  scene  without. 

The  windows  stood  open  to  the  bland  spring  air.  The 
languid,  quiescent  sunshine  loitered  along  the  great  white 
stone  porticoes,  looking  in  often,  a  smiling,  sheeny  pres- 
ence, upon  the  grave  deliberations  within.  The  river 
glistened  in  lustrous  curves  between  high  banks  fringed 
with  green  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  The  roofs  of 
the  city  below  were  almost  smokeless,  —  only  here  and 
there  a  wreathing  hazy  curl.  The  old  forts  on  the  hills 
wore  all  the  dismantled  and  sunken  aspect  of  desuetude, 
and  gathered  into  the  scars  of  war  the  blossoms  of  peace 
and  the  nestlings,  and  garnered  the  songs  and  the  smiles 
of  spring  to  make  the  waste  places  merry. 

Hardly  a  sound  entered  at  the  window,  —  only  the 
droning  of  a  portly  bee  which,  arrayed  in  a  splendid 
buff  jerkin  and  a  black  belt,  came  swiftly  in  and  went 
again  in  a  slant  of  sunshine.  Harshaw 's  voice,  echoing 
from  the  stone  walls,  seemed  doubly  weighty  and  impres- 
sive and  resonant. 

The  House  had  already  received  an  intimation  of  what 
he  was  about  to  say,  and  although  his  animosity  to  Gwin- 
nan  impugned  his  credibility  and  relaxed  the  surprise 
which  had  been  occasioned,  his  bold  overt  allusions  to  his 
antagonism,  his  sturdy,  undaunted  address,  had  their  ef- 
fect. He  said  he  must  impinge  upon  the  indulgence  of 
the  House  for  some  personal  explanation.  Had  he  con- 
sulted his  own  inclinations  he  would  have  let  the  matter 
pass.  It  had  come  to  his  knowledge  with  no  solicitation, 
no  suspicion,  by  accident,  or  —  with  a  reverent  intonation 
—  providentially,  he  might  better  say.  But  (suspended 
effect)  he  was  sworn  (with  a  wag  of  the  head)  to  serve 
the  interests  of  the  people  of  Tennessee,  and  (he  thumped 


412  7V   THE   CLOUDS. 

the  desk)  right  zealously  would  he  discharge  that  precious 
and  supreme  trust !  The  duty  of  laying  this  matter  be- 
fore the  representatives  of  the  people  was  the  more  dis- 
tasteful to  him  because  he  was  personally  in  antagonism 
to  Judge  Gwinnan,  whose  title  to  the  judicial  office  it  con- 
troverted and  whose  integrity  it  assailed.  He  did  not 
seek  to  disguise  the  truth  ;  lie  wished  it  to  be  understood 
—  and  let  the  fact  have  what  weight  it  might  —  that  he 
would  be  glad  to  see  Judge  Gwinnan  removed  from  the 
office  which  it  was  charged  he  had  profaned.  Apart  from 
all  else,  he  had  practiced  in  Gwinnan's  circuit ;  he  had 
experienced  his  tyranny ;  he  had  seen  a  jury  snatched 
from  their  deliberations  and  clapped  into  jail  for  some 
petty  ignorant  infringement  of  the  deep  reverence  which 
Judge  Gwinnan  exacted  for  his  presence.  No  !  —  and 
the  walls  rang  with  the  strong,  robust  tones,  —  he  would 
esteem  Judge  Gwinnan's  removal  a  source  of  great' 
gratulation  and  a  furtherance  of  justice.  But  he  would 
be  glad,  for  his  own  private  considerations,  if  the  circum- 
stances upon  which  the  motion  would  presently  be  made 
could  have  come  to  the  ear  of  some  other  member  ;  he 
appreciated  that  there  was  (sneering  and  smiling)  a  lack 
of  grace,  of  seemliness,  in  the  emanation  of  the  proposi- 
tion from  him,  an  avowed  personal  enemy  ;  moreover,  he 
might  expose  himself  to  suspicions  of  his  motive. 

"  Right  for  once !  "  cried  the  unruly  Kinsard,  striking 
in  suddenly. 

The  gavel  sounded,  and  the  interruption  subsided. 

Harshaw's  opaque  blue  eyes  turned  mechanically  in  the 
direction  of  the  voice,  but  with  a  preoccupied  air  of  seeing 
nothing  he  went  on,  holding  the  lapels  of  his  coat,  as  he 
stood  squarely  beside  his  desk. 

He  could  have  evaded  ;  he  could  have  delegated  the 
duty  to  another  member,  —  have  made  the  facts  known, 
have  had  the  witnesses  canvassed,  have  set  the  machinery 
in  motion,  without  himself  appearing  at  all.  "  But,  Mr. 
Speaker,"  with  an  arrogant  port,  "  it  is  not  my  habit  to 
beat  about  the  bush.  I  may  be  maligned  by  my  foes,  I 
may  be  misinterpreted  by  my  friends,  I  may  be  misjudged 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  413 

even  by  ray  constituents,  but  it  is  my  principle  to  come 
forth  openly,  and  let  my  personal  feeling  weigh  for  what- 
ever it  may  be  worth." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  stroking  his  yellow  beard  with 
an  excited  gesture,  his  flushed  face  grave,  his  eyes  intent, 
absorbed  ;  his  whole  presence  instinct  with  determination, 
a  hazardous  tenacity,  a  ponderous  force.  Then  dropping 
his  voice  to  the  artificial  dead-level  elocutionary  intona- 
tion, he  proceeded  to  make  a  formal  motion  that  a  com- 
mittee be  appointed  to  investigate  and  report  upon  the 
accusations  brought  against  Judge  Gwinnan,  charging  him 
with  having  fought  a  duel,  thus  being  disqualified  for  of- 
fice ;  and  with  perjury  in  taking  the  official  oath. 

There  was  an  interval  of  absolute  silence  when  he  had 
resumed  his  seat.  Significant  glances  were  interchanged. 
It  seemed  that  the  motion  would  be  lost,  until  a  little 
bland,  cat-like  fellow  arose  to  say  in  a  falsetto  voice, 
"  Mr.  Speaker,  I  second  the  motion." 

Kinsard  turned  his  indolent  anatomy  about  and  looked 
with  a  scathing  eye  at  the  little  man,  as,  flushed  and  flus- 
tered, he  took  his  seat.  There  was  no  possible  propriety 
in  the  charge  of  collusion  ;  the  two  members  had  alj  the 
liberties  of  consultation  and  cooperation.  Then  why,  he 
argued  within  himself,  should  Forsey  look  like  a  cat  steal- 
ing cream  ?  Bestirring  his  recollection,  he  recalled  in 
him  a  certain  willingness  to  think  ill  of  Judge  Gwinnan 
when  previously  threatened  by  Harshaw  ;  and  still  dredg- 
ing for  a  motive,  he  remembered,  though  it  happened 
some  years  ago,  that  Gwinnan,  sitting  as  special  judge, 
had  blocked  the  game  of  a  big  public  contract  swindle, 
in  which  Forsey  had  had  a  large  money  interest. 

Forsey  had  not  the  nerve  of  Harshaw,  who  was  looking 
about  him  in  reddening  displeasure  and  frowning  prog- 
nostication of  the  baffling  of  his  vengeance.  If  he  had 
indeed  no  backing  but  the  irresolute  Mr.  Forsey,  the 
measure  would  be  defeated  by  a  most  triumphant  major- 
ity. The  prospect  roused  all  his  belligerent  spirit,  and 
he  held  up  his  head  with  a  snort  of  defiant  welcome, 
like  a  war-horse  smelling  the  battle  from  afar,  when,  the 


414  77V  THE   CLOUDS. 

question  being  stated  from  the  chair,  a  member  rose  to  say 
that  he  doubted  the  jurisdiction  of  the  House. 

"  If  this  matter  be  reported  correctly  as  I  have  heard  it 
during  the  last  two  or  three  days,  —  to  my  very  great  sur- 
prise, —  if  Judge  Gwinnan  be  disqualified  by  reason  of 
having  before  his  incumbency  fought  a  duel,  then  he 
never  was  a  judge  except  de  facto.  As  I  understand  it, 
only  an  officer  de  jure  can  be  impeached  for  crimes  com- 
mitted in  office." 

Forsey  wanted  to  know  if  perjury  in  taking  the  official 
oath  were  not  a  crime  committed  in  office. 

Another  member  asked  whether  it  was  the  commission 
of  the  crime  itself  which  disqualified,  or  the  conviction  of 
the  crime. 

The  gavel  sounded,  and  the  member  who  had  the  floor 
persisted. 

"  I  take  it  that  the  House  cannot  prefer  articles  of  im- 
peachment against  a  private  citizen  who  has  unlawfully 
usurped  an  office.  If  he  is  removed  at  all,  it  should  be 
by  proceedings  in  the  chancery  court  in  the  nature  of  a 
quo  warranto" 

Mr.  Kinsard  rose,  half  leaning  against  his  desk  with  a 
swaying  negligence  of  posture,  to  call  attention  to  the  fact 
that  anything  in  the  nature  of  quo  warranto  would  n't 
begin  to  do.  To  have  a  little  one-horse  chancellor  way  up 
yonder  in  the  seclusion  of  the  mountains  dump  Judge 
Gwinnan  out  of  his  office  would  not  serve  the  purpose. 
Could  any  man  imagine  that  that  proceeding,  known 
merely  to  the  members  of  the  bar  and  the  few  intelligent 
citizens  of  that  benighted  district  who  took  note  of  such 
matters,  would  satisfy  such  an  animosity  as  the  member 
from  the  floaterial  district  of  Cherokee  and  Kildeer  had 
avowed,  with  a  cheek  which  might  be  contemplated  only 
in  astounded  admiration  ?  Would  the  infliction  of  that 
limited  degradation  glut  the  member's  ravening  greed  for 
revenge  for  his  personal  grudges  ?  No !  the  member 
wished  to  disgrace  Judge  Gwinnan  with  all  the  publicity 
that  even  the  attempt  to  impeach  would  entail  —  he  de- 
signed that  it  should  be  canvassed  throughout  the  length 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  415 

and  breadth  of  the  State.  It  should  resound  through  the 
clarion  columns  of  every  newspaper.  Every  State  in  the 
Union  should  know  that  the  Senate  of  Tennessee  had  or- 
ganized as  a  court  of  impeachment,  and  the  name  of 
Gwinnan  should  be  the  synonym  of  contumely.  Upon  his 
word,  he  could  hardly  take  in  the  vastnes«  of  the  effrontery 
that  emboldened  the  member  to  acknowledge,  to  proclaim 
to  this  House,  his  gross,  his  sordid  personal  motives,  in  at- 
tacking one  of  the  most  able,  most  respected,  most  dili- 
gent, most  upright,  of  the  State  judiciary.  He  appealed 
to  the  higher  feeling  of  the  House.  He  begged  that  they 
would  not  be  driven  like  so  many  sheep  into  an  investiga- 
tion which  was  in  its  very  inception  an  insult,  an  outrage, 
and  a  scandal. 

A  member  demanded  from  his  seat  if  it  were  not  an 
obligation  imperatively  imposed  upon  the  House  to  in- 
quire into  such  a  rumor,  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining 
and  eliciting  the  truth  or  falsehood  it  promulgated. 
Since  such  a  rumor  was  abroad,  it  behooved  Judge 
Gwinnan's  friends  to  advocate  an  investigation,  for  it 
was  his  only  hope  of  vindication  if  he  were  maligned. 

Harshaw,  leaning  forward,  both  arms  on  his  desk, 
attentively  listening,  pursed  up  his  red  lips  meditatively 
and  nodded  with  abstracted  affirmation,  as  if  pondering 
the  position.  He  gave  no  outward  expression  of  gratu- 
lation,  but  he  was  quick  to  mark  the  accession  of  recruits 
to  his  ranks.  He  could  command  a  stalwart  and  callous 
fortitude.  He  could  receive  without  wincing,  without 
anger,  without  shame,  Kinsard's  jeers  and  thrusts,  for 
the  sake  of  the  aroused  antagonism  which  seemed  the 
natural  sequence  of  the  young  man's  insistent  arguments. 

"  It  specially  becomes  the  House,"  continued  the  mem- 
ber, "to  countenance  no  leniency  in  regard  to  dueling 
and  all  that  pertains  to  it,  after  the  will  of  the  people 
has  been  so  unequivocally  expressed  in  regard  to  the 
matter  of  the  challenge,  or  what  was  so  construed,  upon 
this  floor." 

The  member  was  rebuked  here  for  infringement  of 
parliamentary  usage  in  upbraiding,  as  it  were,  the  pre- 


416  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

vious  actions  of  the  House  and  interrupting  the  member 
who  had  the  floor. 

Kinsard,  restive  under  the  interpolation,  seized  the 
opportunity  to  resume.  "  There  is  no  pretense  of  justi- 
fication for  adopting  formal  resolutions  to  asperse  the 
oath  of  an  honorable  man,  least  of  all  at  the  instigation 
of  his  avowed  personal  enemy.  The  story  we  have  heard 
is  at  its  worst  merely  a  country  boy's  '  taking  up  a  dare.' 
I  will  venture  to  say  that  there  is  not  a  man  within  the 
sound  of  my  voice  who  has  not  had  similar  affrays,  — 
has  not  in  the  days  of  his  youth  '  taken  up  a  dare,'  has 
not  fought  by  appointment." 

"  Will  the  member  explain  what  he  means  by  a  duel  ?  " 
demanded  Harshaw.  He  did  not  turn  his  big  yellow 
head ;  he  only  cast  his  opaque  blue  eyes  at  Kinsard,  and 
once  more  looked  down  at  his  hands  clasped  on  his  desk. 

For  a  moment  Kinsard,  taken  unaware,  was  checked. 

"  Perhaps  the  member  had  best  begin  at  the  beginning, 
and  define  a  challenge,"  suggested  a  satiric  voice  from 
the  rear. 

There  was  a  sharp  call  to  order  from  the  chair,  and 
Kinsard,  rallying  himself,  went  tumultuously  on. 

"  I  am  not  a  dictionary,"  he  proclaimed  angrily.  "  I 
am  not  here  to  enlighten  your  ignorance." 

Harshaw,  elated  by  the  allusion  to  the  old  question  of 
the  challenge,  intimating  anew  a  flocking  to  his  standard, 
interrupted  cleverly  :  "I  have  a  dictionary  right  here,  — 
a  law  dictionary."  He  read  aloud,  "  Dueling  is  the  fight- 
ing of  two  persons,  one  against  another,  at  an  appointed 
time  and  place,  on  a  precedent  quarrel." 

Kinsard  vociferously  claimed  the  floor,  although  it  had 
become  very  evident  to  the  House  that  the  interest  he 
advocated  fared  hardly  less  severely  at  the  hands  of  its 
friend  than  its  foe.  In  debate  he  was  no  match  for  the 
wily  Harshaw,  —  his  natural  endowments,  his  enthusi- 
asms, his  finer  emotions,  succumbing  to  a  practiced  logic, 
and  a  militant  habit,  and  an  instinctive  discernment  of 
the  vulnerable  point. 

"  It  is  impossible  to   seriously  maintain  that  a  fight 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  417 

between  a  couple  of  country  boys  is  a  duel,"  he  vehe- 
mently insisted.  "  Everybody  knows  that  the  common 
acceptation  of  the  idea  of  a  duel  is  a  combat  between 
men  —  men  of  station"  (Harshaw  leaned  forward  with 
an  air  of  mock  attention,  placing  his  hand  ostentatiously 
behind  his  ear)  —  "  on  some  question  of  honor,  fighting 
under  the  control  and  direction  of  their  seconds,  at  a 
specified  number  of  paces,  and  with  pistols  "  — 

"  Enactment  provides  that  they  shall  be  silver-mounted, 
hair-trigger  ?  "  sneered  Harshaw. 

Once  more  there  was  a  call  to  order.  But  Kinsard, 
badgered,  turned  at  bay. 

"  I  heard  Judge  Gwinnan  tell  you  once  that  unless 
you  kept  out  of  his  way  he  would  beat  you  with  a  stick, 
like  a  dog.  How  you  do  tempt  the  cur's  deserts  !  " 

Harshaw  rose  hastily  to  his  feet.  He  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment, his  head  lowered,  his  eyes  flaming  from  under  his 
knitted  brows ;  he  looked  like  the  champion  mad  bull  of 
an  arena,  about  to  charge.  Suddenly  he  turned,  and 
without  a  word  resumed  his  seat.  There  was  a  storm  of 
applause  from  every  quarter  of  the  House.  A  dozen 
voices  were  crying  that  the  offensive  words  should  be 
taken  down ;  the  clerk  hastily  obeyed ;  they  were  read 
aloud,  and  the  speaker  called  upon  Kinsard  to  deny  them 
or  retract. 

Kinsard  could  have  said  with  all  the  fervor  of  truth 
that  he  was  sorry  indeed,  but  it  was  in  an  inapplicable 
sense.  He  saw,  with  a  sinking  of  the  heart,  the  havoc 
he  was  making  in  another's  fate,  —  the  moral  murder 
that  hung  upon  his  hands.  He  looked  about  with  de- 
spair at  the  faces  around  him  :  they  had  been  friendly, 
partisan,  when  he  began  to  speak  against  the  motion  ; 
now  they  were  reluctant,  alienated,  antagonistic.  It  were 
better  for  Gwinnan  had  he  had  no  friend  but  his  own 
repute.  The  impetuous  young  fellow  felt  that  he  had 
done  the  worst  that  was  possible.  He  would  not  now 
eat  his  words.  He  looked  at  Harshaw  with  an  indignant 
divination  of  his  motives,  when  that  gentleman,  begging 
the  indulgence  of  the  House,  moved  that  the  matter  be 


418  /^  THE  CLOUDS. 

dropped.  He  was  not  here  to  maintain  personal  con- 
sequence. He  was  willing  —  nay,  eager  —  to  waive  any 
individual  considerations  which  hindered  the  delibera- 
tions of  the  House  and  the  course  of  justice.  If  the 
member  were  so  ungenerous  as  to  decline  to  apologize 
for  words  spoken  in  heat,  confirming  them  in  cool  malice^ 
he  himself  was  able  to  overlook  them,  the  more  as  his 
character  was,  he  trusted,  too  favorably  known  to  be 
injured  by  these  reflections. 

He  sat  down  in  the  midst  of  a  clamor  from  a  number 
of  eager  occupants  of  the  floor,  —  one  of  whom  the 
speaker  presently  recognized, — protesting  against  the 
unparliamentary  nature  of  the  proposal.  The  objection- 
able words  were  again  read,  and  the  speaker  called  upon 
Kinsard  to  apologize  or  to  deny  them. 

Perhaps  Kinsard  alone  appreciated  in  this  edifying  de- 
monstration Harshaw's  policy.  He  could  not  be  tempted 
to  run  counter.  He  would  not  slack  his  pursuit  of  Gwin- 
nan  for  another  trail,  however  alluring.  He  had  higher 
game  in  view  than  the  stripling's  insults  could  furnish. 
And  he  had  made  himself  an  example  of  marvelous  tol- 
erance, forbearance,  and  dignity. 

Kinsard,  lowering  and  pierced  with  all  the  barbed 
realization  of  futility  and  defeat,  adopted  his  words,  re- 
fused to  retract  or  apologize,  and,  being  commanded  by 
the  speaker  to  withdraw,  took  up  his  hat,  and,  with  a 
scornful,  indifferent  manner  that  angered  every  member 
as  if  charged  with  a  personal  relation,  strode  out  of  the 
room. 

Harshaw  had  followed  his  motions  with  narrowing 
eyelids.  His  attention  had  relaxed  with  momentary  ex- 
ultation at  this  result.  He  was  smiling  a  little  in  his 
beard,  and  he  glanced  in  a  debonair  preoccupation  out 
of  the  window  near  his  seat.  The  sky  was  red,  for  the 
sun  was  going  down.  He  noted  the  flush  with  a  casual 
eye,  unprescient  how  it  should  ha  with  him  when  the  day, 
fading  now  and  dropping  its  dulling  petals  on  every  side, 
should  whitely  bloom  again.  Then  he  reverted  with 
zest  to  the  proceedings  within. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  419 

Kinsard  walked  slowly  along  the  portico  to  the  flight 
of  steps.  A  belt  of  clouds,  their  edges  glinting  with  gold, 
obscured  the  scarlet  disk  of  the  sun,  but  from  their  lower 
verge  a  great  glory  of  yellow  light  gushed  down,  each  of 
the  multitudinous  rays  distinct,  giving  a  fibrous  effect, 
upon  the  blue  hills  of  the  horizon,  upon  the  city  in  the 
foreground.  Here  and  there  they  struck  upon  a  spire 
or  a  tin  roof  that  responded  with  a  glister  fiercely  white. 
The  intervals  showed  soft  shadows  of  restful  tints,  the 
tops  of  the  budding  trees,  the  silver-gray  shingles  of  an 
old  house,  and  here  and  there  an  open  space  where  the 
renewed  blue-grass  grew  apace.  It  wore  a  dark  richness 
all  adown  the  slopes  of  the  Capitol  hill.  Somehow  as 
he  noted  it  there  was  borne  upon  him  for  the  moment  a 
subtle  intimation  of  the  serenity  of  that  life  of  Nature 
close  to  our  artificial  existence,  —  mysterious,  inevitable, 
quiescent.  The  contrast  gave  a  sharpened  sense  of  the 
turmoils  of  his  heart,  the  weariness  of  his  spirit,  the 
rasping  jars  of  his  petty  cares.  He  paused  on  the  side- 
walk and  looked  about  him.  Then  he  produced  a  cigar, 
and  took  his  way  down  into  the  city. 

He  did  not  fear  the  sentence  of  the  House.  He  was 
resolute  in  the  position  he  had  taken,  but  he  carried 
throughout  the  evening  an  imperative  sense  of  abeyance. 
He  noticed  with  a  secret  scorn  the  clumsy  efforts  of  his 
legislative  friends  to  sound  his  state  of  mind,  when  they 
came  down  from  the  Capitol ;  he  divined  their  fear  of 
a  collision,  their  anxiety  that  the  asperities  with  Harshaw 
should  be  allowed  to  quietly  drop.  They  sought  to  have 
him  observe  that  they  considered  he  had  the  best  of  it, 
and  that  an  apology  now  from  him  would  mean  merely 
a  desire  to  promote  public  interest.  Only  the  age  of 
another  adviser — his  father's  friend  as  well  as  his  own 
—  restrained  him  from  openly  ridiculing  the  deep  satis- 
faction which  this  mentor  evidently  derived  from  the 
fact  that  the  young  man's  mind  would  be  occupied  with 
lighter  themes  during  the  evening,  and  he  might  forget 
the  rancors  of  the  debate.  His  thoughts,  however,  were 
incongruous  enough  with  the  scene  of  a  fashionable  wed- 


420  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

ding,  where  he  officiated  as  an  usher,  and  he  paced  the 
aisles  of  the  church  with  as  mechanical  a  notice  of  his 
surroundings  as  a  somnambulist.  His  attention  hardly 
pretermitted  its  .hold  upon  the  subject  that  had  absorbed 
him,  and  when  again  at  liberty  he  went  at  once  to  his 
room  at  the  hotel,  with  a  view  of  changing  his  dress  to 
attend  the  night  session  of  the  House. 

It  was  the  slightest  matter  that  attracted  his  notice. 
He  had  lighted  the  gas,  and  as  he  glanced  into  a 
drawer  of  the  bureau  some  trivial  difference  from  the 
usual  arrangement  of  his  effects  caught  his  eye.  He 
stood  for  a  moment  in  motionless  surprise.  Perhaps  it 
was  accident,  perhaps  his  alert  divination,  but  he  slipped 
his  hand  beneath  the  pile  of  garments  and  touched  a 
wooden  case  of  pistols.  He  flushed  slightly,  and  for  a 
moment  he  was  ashamed.  He  had  doubted  if  it  were 
still  there.  He  had  thought  that  perhaps  his  cautious 
friends  might  have  robbed  him,  pending  the  time  when 
he  was  in  anger,  of  the  means  to  do  more  than  war  with 
words.  He  had  taken  instant  fire  at  the  idea  of  an  in- 
terference with  his  liberty.  It  was  the  smouldering 
embers  of  this  thought  that  actuated  him  rather  than 
any  serious  expectation,  but  suddenly  he  turned  back  to 
the  bureau  and  lifted  the  case.  He  opened  it  slowly. 
It  was  empty.  He  gazed  at  the  vacant  space,  his  eyes 
flashing,  his  cheek  flushing.  The  pistols  had  been  ab- 
stracted and  the  case  left  that  his  attention  might  not  by 
its  absence  be  directed  to  the  weapons.  He  could  easily 
divine  all  of  his  friends'  arguments.  He  would  not  no- 
tice the  disappearance  of  the  pistols,  they  must  doubtless 
have  said,  unless  he  wanted  them.  He  would  not  want 
them  unless  he  were  intent  upon  some  fatal  folly.  He 
could  not  supply  himself  anew,  for  all  the  shops  were 
closed,  and  by  to-morrow  he  would  be  in  a  cooler  frame 
of  mind. 

His  indignation  was  natural  enough.  He  took  heed, 
too,  of  contingencies  of  which  his  anxious  friends,  accus- 
tomed to  him  always  in  the  character  of  assailant,  lost 
sight.  "  I  should  be  helpless,"  he  said,  "  if  that  man 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  421 

should  attack  me.  I  should  be  incapable  of  self-de- 
fense." 

Suddenly  he  caught  up  a  light  spring  overcoat,  threw 
it  over  his  arm,  and  left  the  room.  As  he  went  down 
the  staircase  into  the  rotunda  of  the  hotel,  he  seemed 
the  embodiment  of  handsome,  gay,  fortunate  youth.  His 
cheek  was  flushed  ;  his  eyes  were  very  brilliant.  He 
paced  up  and  down  the  floor  for  a  moment  in  front  of 
the  counter,  for  strangers  were  registering  their  names 
and  the  clerks  were  busy.  The  fountain  tossed  up  its 
spray,  and  the  tinkling  drops  fell  into  the  basin ;  around 
it  plants  were  blooming.  Somebody  journeying  from 
the  South  had  presented  the  hotel  with  a  little  alligator, 
that  splashed  about  in  the  water  and  was  a  source  of 
diversion  to  the  out-comers  and  in-goers,  many  of  whom 
paused  to  rouse  it  up  with  their  canes  and  punch  the 
head  of  the  infant  saurian.  Kinsard  walked  presently 
to  the  desk. 

"I  want  to  borrow  a  pistol,"  he  said  to  the  clerk,  to 
whom  he  was  well  known. 

The  official,  fancying  that  the  guest  contemplated  a 
journey  or  a  long  nocturnal  drive  into  the  country,  and 
that  the  request  was  a  matter  merely  of  precaution, 
turned  with  alacrity,  took  a  pistol  out  of  a  drawer,  and 
laid  it  on  the  counter.  He  was  looking  for  the  car- 
tridges, when  an  acquaintance  of  Kinsard's  demanded 
casually,  "  What  do  you  want  a  gun  for  ?  " 

Kinsard  lifted  his  brilliant,  reckless  eyes.  "  To  shoot 
Bob  Harshaw,"  he  declared. 

The  clerk  turned  hastily  from  his  search  and  made  a 
motion  to  clutch  the  pistol. 

Kinsard's  grasp  had  closed  upon  the  handle. 

"  Man  alive  !  "  he  cried  angrily,  "  do  you  think  I 
would  use  it  except  for  self-defense  ?  " 

He  hastily  thrust  it  into  his  pistol-pocket  and  went  out 
into  the  night. 

It  was  moonless  and  very  dark,  despite  the  myriads 
of  scintillating  stars.  The  Capitol  was  visible  only  as 
suggested  in  the  irradiations  of  its  great,  flaring,  yellow 


422  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

windows  and  the  lights  without  on  either  side  of  the 
long  flight  of  steps.  As  Kinsard  ascended  he  noticed  on 
the  broad  portico  a  group  of  men,  separating  at  the  mo- 
ment, three  of  them  going  within  and  one  approaching 
the  steps. 

He  could  not  fail  to  recognize  Harshaw's  bluff  man- 
ner, his  portly  figure,  his  long,  yellow  beard,  and  his 
brisk,  light  step ;  and  as  the  younger  man  walked  along 
the  portico,  Harshaw's  eyes,  glancing  out  sharply  from 
under  the  brim  of  his  slouch  hat,  identified  him.  There 
was  no  one  by  to  note  how  they  should  meet ;  the  sig- 
nificance of  the  encounter  might  have  rejoiced  the  lovers 
of  sensation.  Kinsard  was  about  to  pass  without  saluta- 
tion, but  Harshaw,  whirling  half  round  on  his  light  heel, 
paused,  and  with  a  bantering  smile  on  his  dimpled  pink 
face  showing  in  the  gaslight  above  their  heads,  "  Great 
news  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  They  've  appointed  a  com- 
mittee to  investigate  '  the  jedge ' !  " 

Kinsard  experienced  a  sharp  pang  of  dismay  for 
Gwinnan's  sake. 

"  And  I  suppose  you  are  satisfied  now,"  he  said,  bit- 
terly. 

"  Oh,  no,  my  dear  little  sir.  I  am  not  half  satisfied  !  " 
cried  Harshaw,  with  his  liquid  rotund  laugh.  His  fore- 
shortened shadow  swayed  on  the  blocks  of  white  lime- 
stone as  if  it  could  scarcely  contain  itself  for  laughter. 

He  had  lost  the  poise  which  he  had  endured  so  much 
to  maintain  that  day.  He  was  intoxicated  with  his 
triumph ;  and  indeed  he  could  afford  to  indulge  it,  for 
he  felt  that  there  was  nothing  now  at  stake. 

"  And  that  is  the  reason,"  continued  Harshaw,  "  that 
I  feel  I  owe  you  an  obligation  which  I  must  not  let 
pass  without  acknowledgment.  In  your  able  and  cogent 
speech  this  afternoon  you  did  more  to  effect  Judge 
Gwinnan's  impeachment  than,  unaided,  I  could  possibly 
have  compassed.  Let  me  beg  you  to  accept  my  thanks 
—  ha  !  ha !  ha  !  " 

Deeply  wounded  by  this  thrust,  and  conscious  of  the 
injury  he  had  done  Gwinnan's  interests,  Kinsard  turned 
upon  him,  but  not  without  dignity. 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  423 

"Mr.  Harshaw,"  he  said,  "if  I  believed  you  to  be 
sincere  in  this  matter,  if  I  thought  you  were  not  in- 
geniously perverting  the  facts  and  the  law,  I  should 
most  willingly  cooperate  with  you.  But  I  know  your 
motives  to  be  a  rancorous  jealousy  and  an  insatiable 
spite.  And  if  I  have  not  done  anything  to  nullify  them, 
it  is  not  because  I  am  without  the  will." 

He  looked  at  his  interlocutor  from  head  to  foot,  as  if 
he  found  a  source  of  surprise  in  his  very  embodiment. 

"  I  cannot  imagine  how  a  soul  so  petty  should  be  so 
corpulently  lodged.  It  might  appropriately  animate 
some  tiny  writhing  worm  that,  showing  venom,  could  be 
crushed  by  a  foot." 

"  Look  here,  youngster,"  said  Harshaw,  sneering  and 
showing  his  strong  white  teeth,  his  eyes  gleaming  under 
the  brim  of  his  hat,  "  I  know  you  mean  you  'd  take  my 
life  if  you  could  defy  the  consequence.  But  you  'd  bet- 
ter mind  how  you  go  to  extremes  in  Gwinnan's  service. 
I  have  a  contempt  for  you,  but  a  pity,  too.  I  know  you 
are  only  his  miserable  tool,  his  abject  creature." 

Kinsard  sprang  forward  with  the  suddenness  of  a 
tiger.  A  stinging  thrill  ran  through  Harshaw's  face  be- 
fore he  could  realize  that  with  an  open  palm  he  had 
been  struck  upon  the  cheek. 

It  was  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  —  he  never  could 
afterward  explain  it  to  his  will,  he  never  could  justify  it 
to  his  policy ;  he  was  shocked  with  an  extreme  surprise 
when  the  keen,  abrupt  tone  of  a  pistol  rang  upon  the 
chill  night  air,  and  he  became  conscious  that  he  was 
shaking  a  smoking  weapon  in  his  right  hand,  jarred  in 
some  manner  by  the  discharge.  The  young  man  had 
flung  himself  upon  him ;  he  saw  as  in  a  dream  Kinsard 
take  one  convulsive  step  backward  and  fall  from  the 
verge  of  the  great  portico  to  the  stones  below.  There 
was  a  moment  of  intense  silence.  Harshaw  looked 
wildly  to  the  doors,  the  windows,  expecting  the  issuance 
of  startled  men,  roused  from  their  deliberations.  It  was 
strange  ;  if  the  pistol-shot  had  been  heard,  it  had  doubt- 
less been  accounted  some  violation  of  the  law  prohibiting 


424  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

target-practicing  within  the  corporate  limits.  Hardly  a 
minute  had  elapsed  when  Harshaw  ran  down  the  long 
flight  to  where  the  man  lay,  half  in  the  shadow  and  half 
in  the  light,  at  the  foot  of  the  stone  wall. 

"  Are  you  hurt  ?  "  he  cried  in  an  agonized  voice,  as 
he  bent  over  the  motionless  figure.  "  Are  you  dead  — 
already?" 

He  took  one  of  the  listless  white  hands,  —  very  list- 
less it  was,  and  chill. 

As  he  moved  the  submissive  figure  he  felt  the  pistol 
in  the  pocket ;  he  drew  it  forth,  glad  at  least  that  the 
man  was  armed.  As  he  turned  it  in  his  hands  he  saw 
in  despair  that  it  was  unloaded.  What  theory  of  self- 
defense  could  this  bear  ?  The  next  moment  his  quick 
eye  noted  that  the  bore  and  make  were  the  same  as  his 
own  weapon's.  He  slipped  in  a  cartridge,  two,  three, 
and  replaced  it  in  Kinsard's  pocket.  Then  he  rose  to 
his  feet  to  summon  help.  He  turned  as  he  was  about 
to  ascend  the  steps,  and  looked  back  fearfully  over  his 
shoulder. 

The  sudden  remembrance  of  his  vision  smote  him. 
He  gazed  upon  the  scene  as  if  he  had  before  beheld  it. 
The  man  lay  there  at  the  foot  of  great  rocks,  motionless 
and  with  an  averted  face. 

He  had  braced  himself  as  well  as  he  might  to  endure  the 
shock  of  public  reprehension,  surprise,  repulsion,  reacting 
on  his  own  nerves,  sensitive  to  every  variation  of  popular 
opinion,  when  he  should  go  to  his  associates,  his  weapon 
in  his  hand,  the  report  of  his  own  foul  deed  upon  his  lips. 
And  yet,  strong  as  he  was,  he  faltered,  he  tottered,  he 
fell  almost  fainting  against  the  door  at  which  he  entered. 
He  had  a  vague  idea  of  the  startled  faces  turned  toward 
him,  the  expectant  stillness,  the  sound  of  his  hoarse,  dis- 
connected words  in  an  appalled  staccato,  the  sudden  rush, 
the  wild  clamor.  He  hardly  recognized  the  two  men  wL  j 
disengaged  themselves  from  the  turmoil  and  came  to  him, 
—  the  best  friends  he  had  in  the  world,  he  might  be  sure 
now.  He  was  only  aware  of  what  he  had  said  and  how 
well  he  had  said  it,  when  he  was  supported  between  them 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  425 

to  a  carriage,  and  was  driving  with  them  and  with  the  of- 
ficer who  had  been  summoned  at  his  request,  to  the  magis- 
trate's house.  His  friends  were  talking  together  in  re- 
spectful undertones  of  this  "  unfortunate  affair,"  and  ar- 
ranging the  details,  —  a  little  complicated  because  of  the 
late  hour,  —  that  there  might  be  naught  more  unseemly 
than  giving  speedy  bail.  Neither  intruded  on  his  re- 
serve. The  officer  was  silent,  unofficial,  respectfully  null, 
effaced.  The  stars  were  bright  in  the  dark  sky.  The 
horses'  hoofs  flashed  fire. 

The  magistrate,  roused  to  the  fact  that  justice  may  not 
sleep  when  wrongs  are  to  be  righted,  made  the  necessary 
inquiries  in  so  grave  and  courteous  a  tone  that  it  seemed 
he  recognized  that  the  occasional  killing  of  a  gentleman 
may  be  lamentable  to  the  deceased  and  inconvenient  to 
the  surviving,  but  was  nothing  to  unduly  stretch  the 
limits  of  his  elastic  impartiality  and  abeyance  of  harsh 
opinion.  He  promptly  accepted  the  proffered  bail,  and 
Harshaw's  friends  left  him  only  at  his  bedroom  door, 
where  they  shook  hands  gravely  and  kindly  with  him, 
and  in  response  to  some  muttered  thanks  declared  they 
proposed  to  see  him  through. 

He  found  beneath  the  door  the  cards  and  notes  of  other 
friends  who,  hearing  some  wild  rumor  of  the  trouble,  had 
called  to  proffer  services.  His  lips  curled  triumphantly  as 
he  scanned  them  one  by  one.  They  represented  the  esti- 
mation in  which  he  was  held.  They  intimated  a  reliance 
on  his  good  faith  and  motive  in  any  deed. 

"  But  I  tell  you,  Mr.  Harshaw,"  he  said  ceremoniously 
to  himself,  "  't  would  have  been  mighty  different  if  't  was 
n't  for  your  own  smartness  !  "  For  he  could  hardly  thank 
his  craft  enough  for  the  timely  expedient  of  slipping  the 
cartridges  into  Kinsard's.  empty  pistol. 

He  slept  badly  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  night,  but  toward 
day  he  fell  into  a  deep  and  dreamless  slumber,  and  woke 
refreshed.  It  was  later  than  usual,  and  he  was  solitary  at 
breakfast  save  for  the  company  of  strangers.  The  cor- 
ridors were  well-nigh  deserted  when  he  came  out  with  his 
unfolded  newspaper  in  his  hand,  —  he  would  not  look  at  it 


426  IN  THE   CLOUDS, 

earlier.  Most  of  the  members  who  sojourned  at  the  same 
hotel  had  gone  to  the  Capitol.  The  reading-rooms  were 
quite  empty,  but  for  the  presence  of  the  sunlight  in  glitter- 
ing white  blocks  upon  the  carpet.  He  had  lighted  a  cigar 
and  flung  himself  into  a  chair,  nerving  himself  to  read  the 
accounts  of  the  shooting  and  the  comments,  when  suddenly 
one  of  his  bondsmen  came  into  the  room  with  so  precipitate 
a  manner,  so  perturbed  a  face,  that  the  trouble  so  cleverly 
manipulated  assumed  anew  an  indefinitely  threatening  as- 
pect. He  felt  his  muscles  tighten,  his  pulses  quicken  as 
lie  asked  hastily,  "  What 's  up  ?  " 

He  could  not  mistake  the  nature  of  the  look  the  man 
bent  on  him  ;  it  made  him  tingle  from  head  to  foot. 
And  yet  his  errand  was  the  last  offices  of  friendship. 

"  You  're  too  quick  on  the  trigger  in  more  ways  than 
one,  Harshaw,"  he  said.  "  Kinsard  was  not  hit." 

If  Harshaw's  conscience  had  suffered  one  pang,  this  an- 
nouncement might  have  weighed  more  with  him  than  all 
that  was  to  come.  The  extreme  surprise  told  only  on 
his  nerves  :  his  heart  thumped  heavily  ;  his  breath  was 
short,  his  face  flushed  ;  he  looked  at  his  interlocutor  with 
eyes  that  seemed  lidless  in  their  intentness. 

"  Kinsard  was  not  shot.  He  lost  his  balance  and  was 
stunned  by  the  fall.  They  have  been  working  with  him 
all  night  long,  but  the  doctor  says  he  '11  pull  through  now." 
The  man  faltered  a  little.  It  was  hard  to  look  into  another 
man's  eyes  and  say  this.  "  He  revived  once  before  you 
left.  He  saw  you  in  the  gaslight  load  his  pistol  with  your 
cartridges.  And  then  he  fainted  again.  I  thought  I  'd 
tell  you.  The  whole  town  's  talking." 

It  was  admirably  managed,  —  Harshaw's  long,  amazed 
stare,  the  slow  rising  from  the  chair,  the  rotund  resonant 
laughter  filling  the  room.  It  renewed  his  friend's  faith  in 
him. 

"  Lie,  eh  ?  "  he  asked  anxiously. 

"  Go  away  !  "  Harshaw  bluffly  waved  him  off.  "  I  'm 
done  with  you.  Coming  to  Me  with  a  cock-and-bull  story 
like  this,  —  the  visions  a  stunned  man  saw  between  his 
faints !  " 


7.ZV  THE   CLOUDS.  427 

As  he  took  his  way  boldly  down  into  the  rotunda 
amongst  the  crowds  of  men  assembled  there,  the  effect  of 
his  presence,  his  manner,  his  bluff  hilarious  voice  as  he 
canvassed,  the  story,  did  much  to  annul  its  credibility,  in 
fact  might  have  destroyed  it  but  for  the  recollection  of 
the  clerk's  declaration  —  silently  pondered  —  that  the  pis- 
tol loaned  was  new,  had  never  been  discharged  ;  that  the 
box  of  cartridges  was  unopened  in  his  possession ;  that 
Kinsard  went  straight  from  him  to  the  Capitol ;  that  the 
shooting  occurred  within  fifteen  minutes. 

The  subtle  perception  of  this  mental  reservation  had  no 
influence  on  Harshaw's  capable  swagger  and  burly  ridi- 
cule, but  as  he  noted  it  he  was  saying  again  and  again 
to  himself,  "  You  're  a  mighty  smart  man,  Bob  Harshaw. 
You  're  just  a  little  mite  too  smart.  There  's  no  mis- 
take this  time.  It  is  you  who  are  dead  —  politically  as 
dead  as  Hector." 

No  action  was  taken  in  the  matter  by  the  legislature, 
for  it  bristled  with  unprecedented  difficulties.  The  ses- 
sion was  drawing  to  a  close,  and  Harshaw's  term  ceased 
with  it.  His  usefulness  ceased  previously.  Whatever 
measures  he  had  advocated  were  tainted  with  suspicion  and 
encountered  disfavor.  Bereft  of  the  influences  of  his  en- 
mity toward  Judge  Gwinnan,  the  committee  appointed  to 
investigate  the  charges  against  him  deliberated,  and  daw- 
dled, and  finally  reported  adversely  to  the  resolution  to 
prefer  articles  of  impeachment.  Their  doubt  of  the  juris- 
diction of  the  legislature  was  said  to  be  the  determining 
cause  of  their  action.  It  was  a  perplexed  and  a  troublous 
question.  And  thus  they  washed  their  hands  of  it. 

It  had  been  in  this  cause  that  Harshaw  had  flung  him- 
self away,  and  it  was  in  this  result  that  he  experienced  the 
extremest  rigors  of  defeat.  It  added  to  the  helpless 
chagrin  with  which  he  watched  his  future,  coming  on  so 
fast  that  already  its  coarsened  grotesque  features  were 
wearing  the  immediate  aspect  of  the  present.  A  fine  con- 
trast he  was,  to  be  sure,  to  the  man  whose  seat  on  the  bench 
he  had  sought  to  shake,  still  serenely  immovable,  while  he, 
the  loiterer  about  the  tavern  at  Shaftesville,  beginning 


428  IM   THE   CLOUDS. 

to  drink  heavily  now,  although  his  habits  had  been  tem- 
perate, telling  idle  stories  to  the  other  loiterers  with  the 
zestful  skill  acquired  as  a  politician,  useless  now,  must 
needs  watch  all  the  interests  that  he  had  spent  his  life  to  con- 
serve dwindle  by  degrees,  till,  case  after  case  withdrawn 
from  him,  he  should  become  a  mere  hanger-on  in  those 
courts  in  which  he  had  aspired  to  preside. 

And  then  there  came  to  him  news  for  which  he  felt  he 
had  no  commensurate  capacity  for  astonishment.  Gwin- 
nan,  aggrieved  by  the  indecision  of  the  legislature,  was 
clamoring  for  a  vindication.  It  was  nominally  at  the  re- 
lation of  a  third  party  that  the  attorney-general  brought 
a  suit  in  the  chancery  court  to  test  his  title  to  office ;  and 
in  the  interval  before  the  trial  Mr.  Harshaw  had  a  great 
deal  to  say  about  judicial  whitewashing,  and  speculated 
much  concerning  the  probable  result  of  the  case,  and 
pondered  deeply  on  Gwinnan's  motives  in  encountering 
its  hazards. 

Sometimes  he  was  half  minded  to  accredit  their  pro- 
bity, and  then,  ambitious  of  all  that  may  serve  to  lift,  he 
fell  envious  again,  and  railed  at  his  harsh  penalty,  that, 
being  not  all  base,  one  crafty  deed  —  sequence  of  how 
many  crafty  thoughts  !  —  should  determine  his  future  and 
affix  his  life  sentence. 


XXIX. 

IT  seemed  to  Mink  Lorey,  trudging  on  toward  the 
mountains,  as  if  they  had  been  suddenly  caught  up  in  the 
clouds.  The  horizon  had  fallen  from  their  invisible  sum- 
mits to  the  levels  of  the  cove,  and  where  the  flat  stretches 
of  the  perspective  met  the  nullities  of  the  enveloping 
vapors  the  scene  had  all  the  prosaic,  denuded  desolation 
of  prairie  distances.  Yearning  for  the  sight  of  the  blue 
peaks,  he  felt  as  if  it  were  in  rebuke,  in  alienation,  that 
they  had  hidden  their  faces  from  him,  had  drawn  the  tis- 
sues of  the  air  about  them  and  veiled  their  heads.  As  the 
day  unfolded  hour  by  hour,  as  the  distance  lessened  mile 
by  mile,  he  sought  if  perchance  in  a  rent  of  the  mist  he 
might  not  glimpse  some  dome,  the  familiar  of  his  early 
life,  unchanged  through  all  the  vicissitudes  that  time  had 
wrought  for  him.  Once  he  was  not  sure  if  it  were  moun- 
tain or  cloud  outlined  in  individual  symmetry  amongst 
the  indeterminate,  shapeless  masses  of  vapor.  Then  the 
haze  thickened,  and  he  lost  the  semblance,  whether  of 
earth  or  air. 

It  was  before  dawn  that  he  had  escaped  from  the 
haven  he  had  found,  and  Mrs.  Purvine,  throughout  the 
day,  keeping  watch  over  these  snug  quarters,  guarded  an 
empty  nest.  After  the  first  deep,  dreamless  slumber  of 
exhaustion  he  had  silently  slipped  out,  taking  his  way 
toward  the  Great  Smoky,  the  thought  of  Alethea  heavier 
than  all  his  calamities.  He  knew  naught  of  the  report  of 
his  pardon ;  he  hardly  cared  now  what  might  betide  him. 
He  would  see  her  and  tax  her  with  her  fickle  heart,  and 
then  he  would  flee  whither  he  might.  Sometimes,  as  he 
toiled  along,  he  would  raise  his  arm  with  a  frantic  ges- 
ture, and  again  and  again  his  lips  moved  unconsciously 
as  he  forecast  in  sibilant  mutters  the  words  that  he  would 
say. 


430  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

There  was  little  danger  at  this  early  hour  of  meeting 
any  traveler  along  the  deserted  road,  but  he  hardly  felt 
safe  until  he  reached  the  base  of  the  Great  Smoky,  and 
was  amongst  the  dense  laurel  of  those  mighty  forests, 
still  veiled  with  the  mists  and  effaced  from  the  day.  He 
turned  back  often,  despite  the  numbing  clutch  of  despair 
in  his  heart  and  the  turbulence  of  his  rage,  hoping  that 
he  might  see  again  Chilhowee  with  the  sunshine  on 
it ;  with  the  circuit  of  birds  in  the  adjacent  domains  of 
the  sky;  with  detached  flakes  of  mist,  like  stole-clad 
figures,  in  airy  processional  pacing  the  summit  to  elusive 
evanescences ;  with  its  colors  of  bronze-green,  and  anon 
purple,  and,  stretching  far  away,  more  finely,  softly 
azure  than  the  heaven  it  touched.  Alas,  no,  —  this  he 
might  remember.  And  yet  he  had  chance  rencontres 
with  old  familiars.  A  torrent,  gray-green,  glassy,  whiteiy 
foaming,  darted  out  from  the  vapors  suddenly,  and  was 
suddenly  withdrawn  into  the  blank  spaces.  And  was  he 
akin  to  the  balsam  firs ;  could  he  have  met  brethren 
with  more  joy  ?  Even  when  they  towered  undistinguish- 
ably  above  him,  they  whispered  to  him  a  word  now  and 
then,  and  filled  the  air  with  the  cordial,  inspiriting  sense 
of  their  presence.  And  what  was  this  ?  He  stood  still 
to  listen,  staring  into  the  white  vagueness  of  the  invisible 
woods.  A  fitful,  metallic  tinkling.  Was  he  so  high  up 
the  great  steeps  that  already  he  could  distinguish  the 
bells  of  the  herds,  or  was  this  a  stray  ?  He  heard  a  hoof 
struck  upon  the  ground  presently,  the  sound  of  munching 
teeth,  and  suddenly  a  horse's  head  was  thrust  forward 
amongst  the  mists,  showing  a  black  mane  and  wide  bril- 
liant eyes  and  the  arch  of  a  claybank  neck. 

"  Thar  ye  be,  Grasshopper !  At  it  agin,  air  ye  ?  " 
Mink  called  out,  with  the  rancorous  formula  of  an  old 
reproach. 

It  was  a  horse  that  he  knew,  and  knew  well,  —  one  of 
the  charges  of  the  herders  during  the  previous  summer, 
—  a  wild  young  creature,  with  a  proclivity  for  breaking 
bounds  and  straying.  The  animal  pricked  up  his  ears 
at  the  sound  of  his  name,  and  his  eyes  met  Mink's  with 
seeming  recognition.  The  young  mountaineer  reflected 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  431 

that  it  was  he  who  had  usually  salted  the  animals.  With 
a  hope  of  bettering  his  plight  he  held  out  his  hand. 

"  Cobe  !  Cobe !  "  he  called  seductively.  The  horse 
looked  dubiously  at  him,  as  he  stood,  one  hand  thrust  in 
his  leather  belt,  his  white  hat  —  an  old  one  belonging  to 
Jerry  Price,  which  Mrs.  Purvine  had  loaned  him  — 
perched  on  the  back  of  his  head,  his  red  hair  limp  with 
the  moisture  of  the  damp  day.  The  creature  approached 
gingerly,  snuffing  at  the  empty  hand.  He  moved  back 
abruptly,  detecting  the  deception  ;  but  Mink  had  caught 
him  by  the  halter  which  he  wore,  and  sprung  upon  his 
back. 

"  Gimme  a  lift  up  the  mounting,  Grasshopper,"  sug- 
gested Mink  placidly. 

The  stray  reared  and  plunged  and  kicked,  striving  to 
unhorse  the  rider,  who,  although  without  saddle  or 
bridle,  contrived  to  maintain  his  seat,  but  could  neither 
govern  nor  guide  the  animal,  that  at  last  bolted  off 
through  the  woods,  running  as  rapidly  as  the  nature  of 
the  ground  would  permit.  On  he  went,  invading  the 
mists ;  piercing  the  invisibilities  of  the  wilderness  ;  up 
hill  and  down ;  among  bowlders  and  gigantic  trees, 
dimly  looming  ;  fording  streams  and  standing  pools  and 
morasses ;  pausing  to  kick  and  rear  and  plunge  anew, 
and  away  once  more.  Mink  waited  calmly  till  the  stray 
should  exhaust  his  energies.  This  proved  longer  than 
he  had  anticipated.  But  after  several  delusive  intima- 
tions of  abating  speed  the  horse  fell  into  a  canter,  then 
into  a  trot,  and  as  Mink  pulled  on  the  halter  the  comity 
with  his  rider  was  renewed  once  more,  and  he  lent  him- 
self to  guidance.  Looking  about  him,  the  young  moun- 
taineer could  hardly  say  where  he  had  been  carried. 
Once  as  the  mist  shifted  he  saw  through  the  limbs  of 
stunted  trees  a  great  peak,  a  mile  away  perhaps,  appear- 
ing and  disappearing  elusively  among  the  rifts.  He  be- 
gan to  understand  that  he  was  on  the  summit  of  the 
ridge  in  the  interval  between  two  great  uprising  domes. 
Often  he  must  needs  lie  flat  on  the  horse's  back,  lest  the 
low  boughs  of  the  ancient  dwarfed  trees  sweep  him  to 


432  /AT  THE  CLOUDS. 

the  ground ;  as  it  was,  they  played  cruel  havoc  with  his 
old  jeans  coat,  and  once  snatched  his  hat  away.  He 
drew  up  with  difficulty,  and  as  he  clapped  it  on  his  head 
he  heard  again,  in  the  momentary  silence  of  his  horse's 
hoofs,  the  tinkling  of  bells  other  than  the  one  which  the 
nomadic  Grasshopper  wore  at  his  neck.  He  rode  to- 
ward the  sound.  It  led  him  into  a  limited  open  space 
where  the  trees,  struck  and  burned  by  the  lightnings, 
had  fallen  charred  upon  the  earth ;  two  or  three  cows 
were  pausing  to  crop  in  the  lush  grass,  despite  the  crack 
of  a  whip  and  the  call  of  a  herder.  Mink  recognized  the 
voice  of  his  old  comrade,  Doaks. 

The  mounted  figure  of  the  fugitive  loomed,  half  dis- 
cerned, gigantic  in  the  mist,  as  Ben  Doaks  stood  and 
stared.  The  horse,  restive,  freakish,  rose  upon  his  hind 
feet,  pawing  the  air.  The  young  mountaineer,  half 
doubting  the  policy  of  revealing  himself,  his  prudent 
fears  returning,  hesitated,  then  leaned  forward  and 
waved  his  hand.  He  did  not  speak,  for  Doaks  suddenly, 
with  a  wild  shrill  cry  of  terror,  turned  and  fled. 

Mink  sat  his  horse  motionless,  staring  in  amazement. 
An  angry  flush  rose  to  the  roots  of  his  hair. 

"  Ben  's  'feared  ter  hev  enny  dealin's  with  law-break- 
ers an'  sech,"  he  sneered.  "  'Feared  the  law  mought 
take  arter  him." 

He  rode  along  for  a  few  moments,  pondering  his  jeop- 
ardy and  the  long  imprisonment  to  which  he  was  sen- 
tenced. If  this  demonstration  were  any  indication  of 
the  feeling  against  him,  he  would  be  taken  again  here 
amongst  the  herders,  or  at  his  home  in  Hazel  Valley,  or 
in  Wild-Cat  Hollow. 

"  I  ought  n't  ter  go  ter  see  Lethe,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  I  ought  jes'  ter  hustle  over  inter  North  Carliny,  whar 
they  dunno  me,  an'  git  in  with  some  o'  them  folks  ez 
lives  lonesome,  the  herders,  or  them  Injuns  at  Qualla- 
town,  till  the  sher'ff  gits  tired  o'  huntin'  fur  me.  No- 
body 'lows  but  what  I  'm  dead  'cept  Mis'  Purvine,  an' 
she  ain't  a-goin'  ter  tell  on  me.  I  dunno  'bout  Lethe ; 
mebbe  she  11  'low  't  ain't  right,  'specially  sence  she  air 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  433 

so  powerful  pleased  with  the  jedge.  I  '11  git  cotched 
sure  ef  I  keep  a-roamin'  'round  hyar  like  a  painter,  or 
that  thar  harnt  o'  a  herder  ez  rides  on  Thunderhead." 

With  the  words  there  flashed  upon  him  a  new  inter- 
pretation of  Ben  Doaks's  sudden  flight.  He  recollected 
the  significance  of  an  equestrian  figure  here,  strangely 
silent,  looming  in  the  mist.  As  he  looked  about  him, 
catching  vague  glimpses  of  the  neighboring  peaks,  he 
recognized  the  slopes  of  Thunderhead. 

"  Ben  mus'  hev  been  over  ter  s'arch  fur  strays,  an'  I 
reckon  ye  air  one  of  'em,  Grasshopper,"  he  said. 

His  lips  were  curving,  and  his  eyes  brightening  beneath 
the  brim  of  the  old  wool  hat.  His  prudent  resolves 
vanished.  He  leaned  forward  and  deftly  divested  the 
horse  of  the  bell.  He  tossed  his  head  gayly  as  he  struck 
his  heels  against  the  flanks  of  the  animal  with  an  ad- 
monition to  get  up. 

"  Ef  I  don't  ride  up  thar  an'  skeer  them  herders  on 
Thunderhead  inter  fits,  I  'm  the  harnt  Ben  takes  me  fur, 
that 's  all." 

That  misty  morning  was  long  remembered  on  Thun- 
derhead. To  the  herders,  busy  with  their  simple,  lei- 
surely, bucolic  avocation  on  the  great  elevated  pastures, 
as  aloof  from  the  world,  as  withdrawn  from  mundane  in- 
fluence, as  if  they  herded  on  lunar  mountains,  there  ap- 
peared, veiled  with  the  mist  and  vague  with  a  speedy 
gait,  the  traditional  phantom  horseman :  more  distinct 
than  they  could  have  imagined,  more  personally  address- 
ing its  presence  to  the  spectators,  silently  waving  its 
hand,  and  once  leaning  forward  and  clutching  at  the 
empty  air,  as  if  it  would  fain  reach  them,  and  once  as- 
suming an  aggressive  aspect  and  leveling  an  unseen 
weapon. 

The  cattle  had  not  all  arrived  at  their  summer  pas- 
tures from  the  coves  and  the  "flat  woods."  To-day 
young  Bylor,  whose  father  was  a  farmer  on  the  slopes 
below,  had  driven  up  a  "  bunch ''  of  cows,  and  while  he 
was  standing  quite  alone  at  some  distance  from  the 
cabin,  engaged  in  readjusting  a  brass  tag  which  had 


434  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

been  lost  from  the  horn  of  one  of  the  animals,  he  heard 
the  sound  of  an  approach,  and  glanced  about  him  in  the 
fleecy  white  nullity  that  had  taken  the  place  of  the 
erased  world.  He  did  not  recognize  in  the  dim  figure 
of  the  horseman  the  terrible  ghostly  herder,  the  steed 
rearing  and  plunging,  the  erect  figure  looming  gigantic, 
merging  with  no  distinct  outlines  into  the  enveloping  un- 
certainty of  the  mist.  He  stood  stolidly  gazing  for  a 
moment ;  then  he  hailed  it. 

"  Howdy,  stranger  !  "  he  cried. 

The  figure  paused ;  the  horse  fell  upon  his  haunches 
and  pawed  the  air  with  his  forefeet,  while  the  rider 
leaned  forward,  beckoning  slowly  as  Bylor  approached. 
What  monition  induced  him  to  pause  he  could  hardly 
have  said.  The  significance  of  the  insistently  beckoning 
apparition  flashed  upon  him  in  the  moment.  He  turned 
precipitately,  stumbling  over  the  roots  of  a  tree  and  fall- 
ing prone  upon  the  ground ;  then  recovering  himself,  he 
ran  at  full  speed  through  the  blinding  fog  toward  the 
cabin.  He  swore  afterward  that  he  heard  behind  him 
the  tramp  of  a  horse's  hoofs  and  a  voice  laughing  mock- 
ingly. 

At  the  herders'  cabin  he  found  Ben  Doaks  and  his 
partner  from  Piomingo  Bald,  pallid  and  shaken,  among 
the  other  herders  who  had  gathered  there,  all  panic- 
stricken,  and  each  arguing  to  shift  to  his  partner  the  re- 
sponsibility of  the  care  of  the  cattle,  that  he  might  leave 
the  weird,  haunted  summits,  and  find  rest  and  peace  and 
reassuring  human  comradeship  in  the  prosaic  depths  of 
the  cove. 

"  From  what  I  hev  hearn  tell  'bout  that  thar  herder," 
said  Doaks,  with  his  facile  credulity,  "  none  o'  we-uns 
air  a-goin'  ter  hev  sense  enough  ter  keer  fur  cattle  V 
nuthin'  else  fur  a  year  an'  a  day.  Leastwise  that  hev 
been  the  'speriunce  o'  other  folks  ez  hev  viewed  the 
harnt." 

He  laid  on  another  stick  of  wood,  for  the  day  was 
chill,  and  the  great  fire  crackled  and  sparkled,  and  the 
red  and  yellow  flames  darted  up  the  rude  and  tremu- 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  435 

lous  chimney,  and  gave  the  one  bright  element  of  illu- 
minated color  to  the  dark  interior.  The  bearded  men 
grouped  about  the  fire  were  seated  one  upon  a  keg  of 
salt,  three  on  a  log,  and  Ben  Doaks  had  dropped  on  a 
saddle  flung  down  upon  the  hearth.  The  door  was 
closed  ;  once  it  came  unbuttoned,  and  every  face  turned 
quickly  to  scan  the  shivering  mists,  pallid  and  cold  and 
opaque,  crowding  to  the  entrance,  to  be  shut  out  sum- 
marily into  the  vast  vagueness  of  the  outer  world. 

"  I  dunno  ez  I  feel  ennywise  lackin',''  observed  an- 
other, after  a  long  introspective  pause.  He  rubbed  his 
hand  meditatively  over  his  beard.  "  I  never  'lowed  ez 
I  war  special  gifted,  but  I  ain't  a  spang  fool  yit." 

"  I  reckon  we  hain't  hed  time  ter  'speriunce  it,"  said 
Doaks,  as  he  settled  himself  to  wait  for  the  dreaded 
doom,  a  little  astonished,  subacutely,  to  be  conscious  of 
no  diminution  of  mental  power. 

"  I  seen  him  so  close  !  "  cried  Bylor.  "  I  wish  ter 
goodness  I  hed  shot  at  him !  " 

"  Bullet  would  jes'  hev  gone  through  him,"  said  Doaks, 
"  'thout  interruptin'  him  none." 

"Waal,"  rejoined  Bylor,  "  I  hev  hearn  some  folks  'low 
ef  ye  shoots  at  a  harnt  they  don't  like  it,  an'  sorter 
makes  tharse'fs  sca'ce  arter  that.  I  dunno  what  ailed 
him  ter  take  arter  me.  I  never  herded  with  him  on 
Thunderhead.  I  ain't  no  herder,  an'  never  war.  I  hate 
powerful  ter  go  down  inter  the  cove  ter  drivel  fur  a  year 
an'  a  day.  I  never  done  no  work  sca'cely  las'  year, 
through  feelin'  sorter  keerless  'bout'n  it.  An'  ef  I  hed 
drempt  bout'n'  this  hyar  harnt  a-takin'  arter  me  I  'd  hev 
put  in  my  work  then." 

"Waal,  ye  can't  git  the  time  back,"  said  Ben  Doaks ; 
and  many  an  idler  before  and  since  Bylor  has  learned 
this  melancholy  truth. 

He  sat  silent  for  a  time,  ruefully  pondering  upon  his 
blasted  industrial  prospects.  Then  he  broke  forth  fret- 
fully once  more :  — 

"  I  war  fool  enough  ter  go  so  close.  I  seen  the  very 
hat  he  wore,"  —  his  tones  were  full  of  a  despairing 


436  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

regret,  —  "a   big   white  hat  sot  onto  the  back  o'   his 
head." 

"  That  war  jes'  Josh  Nixon,"  said  the  elder  of  the 
herders,  gravely  shaking  his  head.  "  That  war  the  very 
kind  o'  hat  he  wore,  an'  set  the  same/' 

Three  of  the  five  hats  in  the  room  were  of  that  exact 
description ;  in  fact,  it  was  a  fashion  common  enough  in 
the  region  for  Jerry  Price  to  have  two  alike,  and  the  old 
one  which  Mrs.  Purvine  had  lent  the  fugitive  was  hardly 
distinguishable  from  Mink's  own,  floating  down  the  Ten- 
nessee River. 

It  did  not  shadow  a  face  altogether  appreciative  of  his 
own  pranks,  as  Mink  drew  it  down  over  his  brow  and 
rode  away  in  the  mist,  when  convinced  that  the  herders 
were  likely  to  come  out  no  more  for  the  present. 

"  I  can't  take  no  sure  enough  enjyemint  in  nuthin'," 
he  complained.  "  I  feel  so  badgered  an'  hunted." 

He  looked  about  him  doubtfully.  A  few  strides  of 
his  horse  and  he  would  be  across  the  state  line,  and  safer 
than  for  many  a  day.  He  stood  drearily  contemplating 
the  vacancy  of  the  clouds  above  the  Carolina  side,  as  un- 
responsive to  the  imagination  as  his  future,  which  in  vain 
he  sought  to  forecast.  He  suddenly  wheeled. 

"  I  'm  bound  ter  see  Lethe,  though  !  I  'm  bound  ter 
tell  her  I  hev  fund  her  out.  She  '11  know  what  I  think 
o'  her  afore  I  'm  done." 

He  pressed  the  horse,  broken  now  to  a  steady  gait, 
into  the  elusive  ways  of  the  herders'  trail  through  the 
weird,  stunted  woods  along  the  ridge  to  the  great  Pio- 
mingo  Bald  ;  thence  into  a  path  that  led  down  into 
Wild-Cat  Hollow.  He  noted  its  well-worn  and  smooth 
curves. 

"  Ben  Doaks  hev  made  a  reg'lar  turnpike,  a-travelin' 
ter  see  Lethe  Sayles,"  he  said,  with  some  half  scornful 
pity  that  would  not  bestir  itself  to  be  jealous. 

He  made  a  wide  detour  of  the  little  house,  nestling  in 
the  great  cleft  of  the  mountain,  occasionally  becoming 
dimly  visible  as  the  mist  shook  out  its  gauzy  folds  in 
long  pervasive  shivers,  and  anon  obliterated  as  it  dropped 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  437 

its  denser  curtain.  Over  the  valley  it  was  torn  into 
fringes,  a  slant  of  sunlight  gilding  it,  the  blue  of  the  sky 
showing  through. 

One  of  the  sudden  precipitous  ascents  from  the  deep 
depression  of  the  hollow  was  distinctly  imposed  against 
the  horizon.  There  were  great  rocks,  with  herbs  and 
grasses  growing  in  niches,  on  either  side  of  a  narrow 
gorge.  Two  splintered  cliffs  amongst  them  were  like  a 
rude  and  gigantic  gateway  giving  access  to  the  higher 
verdant  slopes  of  the  mountain.  His  eyes,  turning  me- 
chanically toward  the  opening  vista,  were  arrested  by 
the  sight  of  Alethea  high  up  the  gorge,  standing  in  the 
clifty  gateway.  Her  sun-bonnet,  still  tied  under  her 
chin,  had  fallen  on  her  shoulders ;  her  yellow  hair  was 
like  the  golden  sunlight  denied  to  the  dreary  heights  ; 
her  familiar  brown  homespun  dress  was  distinct  against 
the  tender  green  of  the  slope  ;  a  basket  of  herbs  was  on 
her  arm.  Now  and  then  she  moved  a  step  and  plucked 
a  sprig  from  a  niche,  and  again  she  would  pause  looking 
down  upon  the  valley,  where  the  white  glister  of  the 
mist  united  with  the  suffusion  of  yellow  sunshine  beyond 
in  a  gauzy,  splendid  sheen  that  now  and  then  parted  to 
reveal  the  purple  mountains,  the  blue  sky,  the  silver 
river,  the  fields  as  radiantly  green  as  the  meadows  of 
the  blest.  His  heart  beat  with  emotions  he  hardly  com- 
prehended, as  he  noted  her  luminous,  grave,  undimmed 
eyes,  her  fair,  delicately  tinted  face. 

He  dismounted  and  hitched  the  horse  by  the  halter  to 
a  tree.  She  did  not  see  him ;  she  heard  nothing  ;  she 
silently  looked  about  her,  and  plucked  the  herb  she 
sought.  He  took  his  way  softly  up  the  gorge  among  the 
fallen  fragments  of  rock  ;  he  was  standing  still  in  the 
great  rift  that  simulated  a  gateway  when  she  turned 
slowly,  and  her  eyes,  widening  with  fear,  with  surprise, 
with  rapture,  fell  upon  him. 

His  heart  could  but  thrill  at  her  loud,  wild  cry  of  joy. 
He  had  meant  to  upbraid  her.  She  was  sobbing  on  his 
shoulder,  and  he  held  her  in  his  arms. 

The  mists  flickered  and  faded  about  them ;  the  sun- 


438  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

shine  slanted  down  through  the  clouds.  The  wind  lifted 
its  wings,  for  they  heard  the  flutter  of  the  breeze,  and 
beside  some  hidden  nest  amongst  the  gray  old  rocks  a 
mocking-bird  was  suddenly  singing  —  singing ! 

"  Ye  war  pardoned  !  I  know  it !  "  she  cried.  "  I 
know  it !  " 

He  had  for  once  a  thought  for  her,  —  a  vain  regret  to 
annul  her  joy.  When  had  Alethea  looked  thus  ?  —  the 
radiant  spirit  of  love,  the  triumphant  delight  of  the 
spring. 

He  delayed  replying.  He  stooped  to  gather  up  the 
herbs  that  had  fallen  on  the  ground  ;  for  the  old  hound 
that  followed  her  had  smelt  the  basket,  and  was  thrust- 
ing his  intrusive  muzzle  among  them. 

"  What  be  ye  a-doin'  of,  Lethe  ?  "  asked  Mink,  restor- 
ing them,  and  setting  the  basket  up  on  a  bowlder. 

To  detail  the  simple  domestic  errand  relaxed  the  tense 
agitation  of  their  meeting,  and  it  was  a  relief  to  him  to 
listen. 

"  A-getherin'  wild  sallet  fur  dinner,"  she  drawled,  her 
happy  smiles  and  tears  together  in  her  eyes.  "  Our 
turnip  patch  never  done  nuthin',  sca'cely,  an'  ez  we-uns 
ain't  got  no  turnip-greens  I  'lowed  I  'd  gether  a  mess  o' 
wild  sallet.  The  chillen  hone  so  fur  suthin'  green." 

There  was  no  quivering  sense  of  deprivation  in  her 
voice  ;  the  hardships  of  poverty  would  wear  to-day  the 
guise  of  triumphant  expedient. 

"  I  hev  got  about  enough,"  she  said,  smiling  up  at 
him.  "  Ye  kem  on  ter  the  house  an'  I  '11  gin  ye  a  soon 
dinner.  Ye  mus'  be  tired  an'  hongry  with  yer  travels. 
They  '11  all  make  ye  welcome." 

He  hesitated.  In  the  supreme  happiness  of  the  moment, 
his  face  had  in  a  measure  lost  the  lines  that  anxiety 
and  suffering  had  drawn.  But  now,  as  he  stood  doubt- 
ful of  what  he  should  say,  she  noted  his  changed  expres- 
sion. 

"  Reuben,"  she  cried,  in  tender  commiseration,  lay- 
ing her  hand  on  his  arm,  "  what  makes  ye  look  like 
that  ?  What  hev  happened  ter  you-uns  ?  " 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  439 

"  Waal,"  said  Mink,  leaning  against  the  wall  of  rock 
behind  him,  "  right  smart  o'  different  things,  —  fust  an' 
last." 

The  simple  heart's-ease  in  being  near  her  again,  —  he 
had  not  realized  how  dear  he  held  it,  —  in  hearing  her 
voice,  full  of  solicitude  for  him,  in  the  renewing  of  his 
unconscious  reliance  upon  her  love,  had  begun  to  give 
way  to  the  antagonism  inevitable  between  them,  with 
their  widely  opposing  views  of  life  and  duty,  their  un- 
congenial characters  and  aims. 

He  laughed  satirically.  "  Ye  talk  'bout  pardon  !  I 
hain't  got  no  pardon.  I  'low  ye  wimmin-folks  hev  got 
no  feelin'  nor  pride  nuther.  I  would  n't  hev  no  pardon 
off 'n  Gwinnan.  I  would  n't  take  a  favior  from  him,  — 
not  ter  save  him  from  hell,  nor  me  nuther.  But  I  hev 
got  no  pardon." 

"  Ye  air  foolin'  me,  Reuben,  ain't  ye  ? "  she  ex- 
claimed, hopefully. 

He  shook  his  head. 

She  gazed  gravely  at  him.     "  How  'd  ye  git  away  ?  " 

"  Bruk  an'  run." 

She  stood  still ;  her  heart  sank  ;  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears.  "  Oh,"  she  cried,  with  all  the  despair  of  a  relin- 
quished hope,  "  I  could  n't  but  b'lieve  yestiddy,  when 
Jacob  Jessup  kep'  a-lookin'  so  secret  an'  m'licious,  ez  thar 
war  good  news  ez  he  would  n't  lemme  hear,  —  more  'n 
he  told  'bout  what  Jedge  Gwinnan  said  when  he  rid 
up  ter  the  cabin,  whilst  we  war  all  away  ter  the  church- 
house  ter  the  revival.  An'  I  b'lieved  't  war  ez  you-uns 
war  pardoned.  I  hev  drempt  of  it !  I  hev  prayed  fur 
it !  I  'd  hev  died  fur  it !  " 

"  Look  hyar,  Lethe  Sayles  !  "  he  exclaimed,  tense  and 
erect  again.  "  That  thar  ain't  a  true  word  ez  ye  air 
a-tellin'  me,  —  ez  that  thar  man  hev  kem  ter  Wild-Cat 
Hollow !  "  His  eyes  blazed  upon  her. 

She  was  deprecating  and  downcast.  Her  intuition 
warned  her  that  it  behooved  her  to  be  careful.  She 
was  too  deliberate.  He  broke  out  vehemently  : 

"  He  hev  !     An'  't  war  ter  see  you-uns." 


440  /AT  THE  CLOUDS. 

"  I  know  't  war,  Reuben,  but "  — 

"  I  swear  ter  Heaven,"  he  cried,  lifting  his  clenched 
right  hand,  "  ez  the  Lord  never  afore  built  sech  a  fool  ez 
me !  "  His  self-pity  and  self-contempt  were  pathetic. 
"  Ain't  I  jes'  now  been  down  yander  ter  Mis'  Purvine's, 
an'  hear  her  tell  how  that  man  —  oh,  curse  him,  curse 
him  !  —  air  nigh  dead  in  love  with  ye,  an'  ye  hed  prom- 
ised ter  marry  him  !  " 

"  No,  Reuben,  no  !  'T  ain't  true.  It  air  jes'  one  o' 
aunt  Dely's  notions." 

"  An'  I  kem  hyar  fit  in  mind  ter  kill  ye  dead,"  he 
went  on.  "  An'  the  minit  I  see  ye  I  furgit  it  all,  an'  ye 
twist  me  round  yer  finger  the  same  ez  ef  I  war  a  bit 
o'  spun  truck  !  G'  way,  Lethe  !  "  —  his  voice  broke  ; 
"  don't  ye  tech  me."  He  moved  away,  that  she  might 
not  lay  her  remonstrant  hand  on  his  shoulder.  "  I  wait 
on  yer  word  like  a  child.  Ye  got  me  inter  all  this 
trouble  through  heedin'  yer  wisdom  ez  turned  out  folly 
fur  me.  The  foolishness  o'  them  ez  air  bereft  air  wise 
ter  me  !  Ye  done  it !  " 

He  struck  his  hands  despairingly  together  as  he 
thought  of  his  forlorn  past.  Perhaps  he  was  the  happier 
that  his  reflective  moods  were  so  rare. 

"  I  know,  Reuben,  —  I  know  I  did.  But  I  never 
meant  it.  I  jes'  wanted  ye  ter  do  what  war  right." 

"  Yes,  but  I  hev  got  ter  abide  by  the  consequences  o' 
what  ye  think  air  right,  —  don't  ye  know  it  ?  "  he  de- 
manded. 

"  Ef  I  could  hev  suffered  fur  it,  stiddier  you-uns,"  she 
declared,  in  tears,  "  I  'd  hev  gone  ter  jail  happy  — - 
happy." 

His  manner  changed  suddenly.  He  was  at  once 
shocked  and  displeased.  "  What  air  ye  talkin  'bout, 
Lethe  ?  "  he  said,  in  stern  rebuke.  "  Don't  ye  know 
thar  ain't  no  'spectable  wimmin  in  jail  ?  " 

This  had  not  occurred  to  her.  She  only  sighed,  and 
looked  away  at  the  shifting  mist  over  the  sunlit  valley  at 
the  heavier  masses  of  cloud  dropping  down  upon  the 
mountain  above.  A  great  eagle,  near  enough  to  show 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  441 

the  gallant  spread  of  his  broad  wings,  swept  from  their 
midst,  poised  in  the  sunlight  high  above  the  cove,  and 
swooped  to  the  slopes  below.  Mink's  gaze  followed  the 
bird,  his  easily  diverted  interest  quickening.  Alethea 
strove  to  take  advantage  of  the  moment.  "  I  jes'  want 
ter  tell  ye,  Reuben  "  —  she  began. 

"  I  don't  want  ye  ter  tell  me  nuthin' !  "  he  cried,  fix- 
ing on  her  his  brown  fiery  eyes,  with  a  bright  red  spark 
in  their  pupils.  "  Ye  make  a  fool  out'n  me.  Ye  don't 
let  me  hev  no  mind  o'  my  own.  I  reckon  it  air  'kase  I 
be  in  love  with  ye,  —  an'  nobody  else.  All  the  t'other 
gals  war  in  love  with  me." 

There  was  none  of  his  jaunty  self-sufficiency  as  he 
said  this,  —  only  a  dreary  recognition  of  the  fact. 

"  Ye  hev  cut  me  out'n  a  heap,  Lethe ;  enny  one  o' 
'em  would  hev  been  mighty  willin'  ter  put  up  with  me 
an'  my  ways.  They  never  harried  me  none,  ez  ef  I 
could  n't  do  nuthin'  right.  I  reckon  I  'd  hev  been 
happy  an'  peaceable  married  ter  enny  o'  them." 

"  I  know,  Reuben,  an'  that 's  the  reason  I  wan  ter  tell 
ye  "  —  She  paused,  expecting  to  be  interrupted.  But 
he  was  looking  at  her  coolly  and  calmly,  waiting  and 
listening.  He  was  saying  to  himself  that  he  might 
safely  hear;  it  was  best  that  he  should  know.  He 
would  be  on  his  guard.  He  would  not  blindly  fall  again 
under  her  influence.  He  felt  with  secret  elation,  stern 
and  savage,  the  handle  of  a  pistol  in  his  pocket.  He 
had  thought  it  no  harm  to  borrow  Jerry  Price's  for  the 
purpose  of  resisting  arrest,  finding  it  on  the  shelf  in  the 
spare  room  at  Mrs.  Purvine's,  the  less  because  it  was  he 
who  had  given  it  to  his  friend,  with  his  wonted  free- 
handedness,  —  but  indeed  he  had  won  it  lightly,  shoot- 
ing for  it  at  a  match. 

He  stood  with  one  hand  on  his  hip,  the  other  laid 
against  the  rock.  His  head  was  a  little  thrown  back, 
his  hair  tossing  slightly  in  the  renewing  breeze  ;  he 
looked  at  her  with  dissent  and  doubt  in  every  line  of  his 
face. 

"  Ye  see,  he  kem  hyar  ter  ax  me  'bout  Sam  Marvin. 
Ye  know  I  tole  on  the  trial  'bout  him'moonshinin'." 


442  IN  THE  CLOUDS. 

Mink  nodded.  The  thought  of  those  terrible  alterna- 
tions of  hope  and  despair  and  remorse  was  very  bitter 
to  him  still. 

u  An'  he  'lowed  I  knowed  whar  Marvin  be  now." 

"  What 's  he  want  along  o'  Marvin  ? "  demanded 
Mink,  surprised. 

"  He  wanted  Marvin,  but  mostly  Jeb  Peake,  ter  tes- 
tify fur  him,  'kase  he  'lows  thar  air  goin'  ter  be  some 
•  sort'n  trial  agin  him.  Mr.  Harshaw  got  it  up,  Jacob  Jes- 
sup  said.  Jacob  'lowed  the  jedge  war  powerful  outed  ter 
find  out  ez  Jeb  war  s'pected  o'  hevin'  kilt  a  man,  'kase 
he  war  feared  nare  one  o'  'em  could  be  tolled  out  ter 
testify  fur  him.  An'  Jacob  tole  him  ez  Marvin  hed  quit 
this  mounting,  but  he  hed  hearn  ez  down  on  one  o'  them 
ridges  nigh  Thunderhead  thar  war  a  strange  man  ez 
war  a-moonshinin',  —  Jacob  's  mighty  apt  ter  know  sech 
ez  that,  —  an'  he  hed  tuk  old  man  Craig's  house,  what 
he  hed  lef  ter  go  ter  North  Car'liny  ter  live  with  his 
son.  An'  from  the  account  Jacob  hearn  o'  these  folks 
he  would  n't  be  s'prised  none  ef  them  war  Sain  an'  Jeb. 
An'  the  jedge  knowed  the  house  an'  whar  it  be.  An'  he 
jes'  lit  out  ter  ride  over  thar  an'  see.  He  went  yestiddy 
evenin',  an'  he  air  kemin'  back  hyar  ter-day.  'Kase  he 
tole  Jacob  ef  he  could  n't  toll  Sam  or  Jeb  ter  testify 
thar  'd  be  no  witnesses  but  his  enemies.  He  'lowed  he  'd 
stay  all  night  at  Bylor's  house,  though  Jake  tole  him  ter 
be  mighty  keerful  how  he  talked  about  Sam  an'  Jeb 
thar,  fur  old  man  Bylor  air  runnin'  fur  office,  —  sher'ff, 
or  constable,  or  jestice,  or  suthin',  —  an'  would  n't  ax 
no  better  'n  ter  git  a  chance  ter  harry  law-breakers. 
An'  the  jedge  'lowed  ez  things  hed  come  ter  a  pretty 
pass  with  him,  an'  rid  off." 

She  looked  up  at  Mink  gravely,  earnestly.  She  had 
sat  down  on  one  of  the  rocks  beside  the  basket ;  her 
hand  toyed  with  a  sprig  of  the  herbs  within ;  her  dense 
golden  hair,  heavily  undulating,  was  all  the  brighter  for 
the  contrast  with  the  dark  green  vine  that  draped  the 
gray  rocks  behind  and  above  her,  the  delicate  coloring 
of  her  face  the  finer,  the  tint  of  the  saffron  kerchief, 


/AT  THE  CLOUDS.  443 

knotted  beneath  her  chin,  the  more  intense.  Her  brown 
gown  lay  in  straight,  simple  folds  about  her  lithe  figure ; 
the  gaunt  old  hound  sat  down  at  her  feet  and  leaned  his 
head  on  her  knee. 

Mink  had  not  always  been  definitely  aware  of  her 
beauty,  —  it  was  not  of  the  type  which  most  appeals  to 
the  rural  admirer ;  but  its  subtle,  unrealized  fascinations 
had  swayed  him  unconsciously.  Now  he  looked  at  her 
critically,  speculatively,  striving  to  behold  her  as  she 
appeared  to  Gwinnan,  to  adjust  his  estimate  to  Mrs. 
Pur  vine's  report  of  the  florid  judicial  compliments.  He 
cared  naught  for  the  rumor  of  the  impending  trial.  He 
felt  no  gratulation  that  Harshaw  had  been  able  to  com- 
pass the  jeopardy,  if  not  the  disgrace,  of  the  man  he 
hated.  He  gazed  at  her  with  sedulous  attention,  to  see 
her  with  Gwinnan's  eyes. 

"  Lethe,"  he  said,  suddenly,  —  he  had  dropped  down 
upon  the  ground  near  her  feet,  and  leaned  back  against 
the  rock,  —  "  did  Jedge  Gwinnan  say  ennything  ter  you- 
uns  'bout  me  ?  " 

She  was  in  a  tremor  instantly. 

He  did  not  seem  to  notice.  He  was  affecting  to  offer 
the  dog  a  morsel  in  a  deceptive  bit  of  stone,  and  as  the 
creature,  with  a  dubiously  wrinkling  and  sniffing  nose, 
would  attempt  to  take  it  he  would  snatch  it  away.  "  Did 
he  ? "  he  persisted,  looking  up  at  her  from  under  the 
brim  of  the  old  white  hat. 

"  Whenst  I  talked  ter  him  an'  begged  him  ter  git  ye  a 
pardon  or  suthin',"  she  said.  She  was  not  without  the 
tact  to  avail  herself  of  discreet  ellipses ;  but  she  fore- 
cast with  dread  that  with  these  he  would  not  be  content. 

"  What  did  he  say  ?  "  He  was  suffering  the  hound  to 
lick  the  stone  in  baffled  reproach,  and  turn  away  dis- 
dainful. Mink's  lip  was  curling  with  fierce  sarcasm  as 
he  reiterated,  «  What  did  he  say  ?  " 

"  I  could  n't  ondertake  ter  remember  all  he  said,  Reu- 
ben. 'T  war  down  yander  at  the  post-office  at  Locust 
Levels.  Me  an'  Jerry  Price  rid  thar  in  the  wagin  ter 
see  ef  thar  war  enny  letter  fur  Mis'  Purvine." 


444  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

"  I  '11  be  bound  I  kin  tell  ye  suthin'  ye  said !  "  ex- 
claimed Mink.  "  Ye  tole  him  ez  he  war  powerful  good 
ter  hold  no  gredge  agin  me." 

She  turned  her  despairing  eyes  upon  him.  He  could 
read  the  truth  in  their  clear  depths. 

u  An'  he  tole  ye  ez  ye  war  too  good  ter  marry  me." 

There  was  no  need  to  answer. 

"  An'  ye  b'lieved  him  !  " 

"  Oh,  Reuben,  ye  know  better  'n  that !  "  she  ex- 
claimed, reassured  to  speak  freely.  "  He  jes'  talked 
'bout'n  ye  like  my  step-mother,  an'  aunt  Dely,  an'  Jake 
Jessup's  wife ;  none  o'  them  air  gamesome,  an'  they 
don't  set  store  on  gamesome  ways.  'T  war  jes'  sech 
talk  ez  theirn." 

He  listened,  his  chin  in  his  hand,  his  elbow  on  the 
rock.  She  should  not  delude  him  again  ;  he  would  not 
succumb  to  her  influence.  He  felt  the  handle  of  the 
pistol  in  his  pocket.  There  was  affirmation  in  its  very 
touch. 

"  Gamesome  ain't  what  he  said.  He  'lowed  I  war 
m'licious." 

Once  more  he  glanced  up  to  read  the  truth  in  her 
eyes. 

He  slowly  pulled  himself  to  his  feet.  He  stood  for  a 
moment,  erect  and  jaunty,  his  hand  thrust  in  his  leather 
belt,  his  eyes  bright  and  confident,  his  hair  tossing  back 
as  he  moved  his  head. 

"  Ye  tole  him  how  good  he  war,"  his  merciless  divina- 
tions went  on. 

She  cowered  beneath  his  serene  and  casual  glance. 

"  Ye  don't  deny  it,  an'  yit  ye  expec'  me  ter  not 
b'lieve  what  the  whole  kentry  air  a-sayin',  —  ez  ye  hev 
promised  ter  marry  him  an'  hev  gin  me  the  go-by." 

He  turned  abruptly  away.  "  Reuben,"  she  cried, 
"  air  ye  goin'  agin,  when  ye  hev  jes'  kem  back  ?  "  She 
laid  her  importunate  hands  upon  his  arm.  His  resolu- 
tion was  strong  now ;  he  could  afford  to  be  lenient  and 
to  humor  her. 

"  'Bleeged    ter,   Lethe,"  he'  said  softly,  looking  down 


IN  THE   CLOUDS.  445 

upon  her  with  the  calmness  of  finality.  She  did  not 
loose  her  hold.  "  Ef  ye  keep  me  a-foolinl  hyar  longer  'n 
I  oughter  stay,  I  mought  git  cotched  agin,"  he  warned 
her  —  "fur  twenty  year !  Jake  Jessup  would  ez  soon 
arrest  me  ez  not." 

She  relaxed  her  grasp,  looking  fearfully  about  her  in 
the  mist  and  at  the  summit  of  the  great  rocks.  She  fol- 
lowed him,  the  old  hound  by  her  side,  down  to  the  spot 
where  the  horse  still  stood  hitched. 

"  But  ye  '11  kem  back  agin,  Reuben  ?  "  she  said,  her 
heart-break  in  her  voice,  her  eyes  full  of  tears. 

"  Laws-a-massy,  yes  ;  times  an'  times.  I  kin  whistle 
plumb  like  a  mocking-bird,  an'  whenever  ye  hear  one 
a-singin'  the  same  chune  three  times  ye  kem  out  'mongst 
the  rocks  an'  ye  '11  find  me." 

Once  more  he  held  her  at  arm's  length  and  looked 
searchingly  at  her  tearful  face.  Suddenly  he  mounted 
his  horse  and  rode  away. 


XXX. 

HE  did  not  maintain  this  sedulous  semblance  of  calm- 
ness as  he  galloped  the  wild  young  horse  along  the  moun- 
tain slopes  in  the  mist.  His  eyes  burned  ;  his  teeth  were 
fiercely  set;  sometimes  he  lifted  his  right  hand  and 
shook  it  clenched  as  if  he  held  his  vengeance  within  his 
grasp  and  would  not  lightly  let  it  go.  Over  and  again 
he  cried  aloud  a  curse  upon  the  man  he  hated,  and  then 
he  would  fall  to  muttering  his  grudges,  all  unforgotten, 
all  registered  indelibly  in  his  mind  despite  its  facile 
laxity,  despite  its  fickle  traits.  He  reviewed  the  events 
since  the  morning  that  Alethea  had  stood  by  the  judge's 
desk,  and  he  laid  down  his  pen  to  gaze,  to  the  afternoon 
when,  amongst  the  blossoms  and  the  sunshine  and  the 
birds,  they  had  talked  together,  and  she  had  asked  a 
futile  thing,  doubtless  to  beguile  the  hour,  and  he  had 
warned  her  solemnly. 

"  I  ain't  goin'  ter  North  Car  liny,  an'  leave  'em  hyar 
tergether,"  he  declared  vehemently.  "  I  '11  meet  up  with 
him  somewhar  this  side  o'  the  Craig  house.  I  '11  dare 
him  ter  fight,  an'  ef  he  don't  kill  me  I  '11  kill  him,  an' 
kiss  the  hand  that  does  the  deed !  " 

The  mists  shivered  to  listen  ;  the  rocks  repeated  the 
threat,  and  again  in  hesitant  dread,  and  still  once  more 
a  word  in  an  awed  and  tremulous  staccato.  On  and  on 
he  went,  —  never  abating  speed,  flying  over  the  broken 
ground ;  deaf  to  the  sound  of  horn  and  hounds  borne 
fitfully  from  the  slopes  below  on  some  hardly  perceptible 
current  of  the  air,  and  again  dying  to  the  dumbness  of 
the  shrouded  woods ;  blind  to  the  burly  apparition  of  a 
bear  trotting  out  of  the  clouds  and  in  again,  although  the 
horse  reared  and  pawed  the  air  ;  callous  to  the  keen  chill 
of  the  torrent,  swollen  out  of  its  banks  with  the  spring 


7.ZV  THE  CLOUDS.  447 

rains  till  it  surged  about  his  limbs  as  he  forded  through. 
Over  and  again  the  mountain  water-courses  intercepted 
his  path,  but  only  once  his  attention  was  attracted  to  his 
surroundings,  and  this  was  because  there  seemed  here  a 
check  upon  his  progress,  and  he  must  needs  take  heed  of 
his  way.  The  stream  known  as  Gran'dad's  creek  showed 
in  the  thickening  mist  a  turbulent  volume,  a  swollen 
breadth,  covering  rocks  and  brush  and  gullies,  and  wash- 
ing the  boles  of  trees  far  from  its  normal  channel ;  he 
hardly  knew  where  he  might  safely  take  the  ford.  Now 
the  water  elusively  glimmered,  swift,  foaming,  full  of 
enormous  bowlders,  and  with  trees  standing  in  its  midst ; 
and  as  he  went  down  to  the  verge  in  a  cleft  of  the  rock 
the  vapors  closed  again,  and  it  seemed  to  recede  into  in- 
visibility. The  horse  had  become  restive.  He  resisted 
and  snorted,  and  finally  deliberately  faced  about,  as  he 
was  recklessly  urged  to  enter  the  stream.  He  was  forced 
again  to  the  margin,  when  suddenly  Mink  thought  he 
was  dreaming.  The  fluctuating  vapors  parted,  once 
more,  and  in  the  rifts  he  saw  on  the  opposite  bank 
the  man  he  sought.  He  stood  in  numb  surprise;  a 
strange  overwhelming  sense  of  hatred  possessed  him  with 
the  image  thus  palpably  presented ;  he  quivered  with  a 
recollection  of  all  his  wrongs.  This  was  no  dream.  It 
was  Gwinnan  returning  from  the  moonshiners'  house. 
He  rose  from  his  stirrups  and  waved  his  hand  with  a 
smile.  Mink  heard  his  ringing  halloo.  Then  Gwinnan 
pressed  his  roan  colt  down  to  the  margin  of  the  water 
and  took  the  ford. 

"  Saved  us  wettin'  our  feet  agin,  Grasshopper,"  Mink 
observed.  He  was  very  distinct  as  he  sat  on  the  bare- 
back stray;  his  feet  dangling  without  stirrups,  his  big 
wool  hat,  his  flaunting  auburn  hair,  his  keen,  clear-cut 
face,  all  definitely  painted  on  the  opaque  white  back- 
ground of  the  mist ;  a  bole  was  barely  outlined  here  and 
there  behind  him,  or  a  towering  crag,  as  if  there  were 
other  elements  of  the  picture  merely  sketched  in.  More 
than  once  Gwinnan  lifted  his  grave  eyes  toward  him. 
But  when  the  mist  came  between  them,  surging  in  a 


448  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

great  cloudy  volume,  Mink  drew  the  pistol  from  his 
pocket. 

"  Ye  don't  kerry  straight.  I  'member  yer  tricks.  I 
reckon  he  hev  got  a  six-shooter,  but  I  '11  resk  ye,  enny- 
hows.  I  '11  wait  till  he  kerns  across  an'  then  dare  him  to 
fight." 

As  he  waited  it  might  have  seemed  that  he  was  the 
only  human  creature  in  the  world,  so  desolately  vacant 
were  the  barren  mists,  so  unresponsive  to  the  sense  of 
the  landscape  that  they  hid,  so  null,  so  silent,  save  for 
the  river,  forever  flowing  on  like  life,  resistless  as  eternity. 
The  interval  was  long  to  his  impatience,  —  so  long  that, 
alarmed  at  last  lest  his  revenge  be  snatched  from  him 
by  some  mischance,  at  this  supreme  moment  when  it  had 
seemed  the  fierce  joy  he  had  craved  was  vouchsafed,  he 
hastily  rode  along  the  clifty  bank  above  the  tumultuous 
current.  Once  more  the  mist  lifted.  Suddenly  he  saw 
the  roan  colt,  his  full  eyes  starting  from  his  head,  his 
scream  almost  human  in  its  frantic  terror,  pawing  the 
cliffs,  to  the  base  of  which  the  encroaching  waters  had 
risen ;  finding  no  footing,  no  shallows,  only  the  forbid- 
ding inaccessibilities  of  the  rocks.  The  saddle  was 
vacant.  The  rider  had  been  swept  away  by  the  wanton 
vagaries  of  the  current. 

The  young  mountaineer  stared  stolidly  and  uncompre- 
hendingly  for  a  moment.  In  a  sort  of  daze  he  dis- 
mounted from  his  horse.  He  hardly  realized  what  had 
happened,  until,  as  he  climbed  deftly  down  among  the 
splintered  crags,  lithe,  agile,  sure-footed  as  a  deer,  he 
saw  clinging  to  a  bramble  growing  from  a  fissure,  and 
supported  on  a  ledge  of  the  rock,  the  unconscious  figure 
familiar  to  his  dream  of  vengeance.  It  was  forestalled ! 
The  wild  freak  of  the  mountain  torrent  had  given  him 
his  heart's  desire,  and  yet  his  hands  were  clean.  The 
wolves,  the  wild  dog's,  and  the  vultures  would  not  leave 
the  man  to  creep  away  were  there  yet  life  left  in  him. 

And  there  was  life.  He  noted  the  convulsive  flutter- 
ing of  breath,  the  trembling  clutch  of  the  fingers ;  for 
the  nerves  remembered  the  saving  boughs  that  the  senses 
had  forgotten. 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  449 

As  Mink  stood  looking  down  he  suddenly  lifted  his 
head  with  a  quick  start,  as  if  a  word  had  been  spoken  to 
him  from  out  the  silence.  Why  this  gratuity  of  pity, 
this  surging  fellow-feeling,  this  clamorous  instinct  to  aid  ? 
Was  a  hand  held  out  to  him  in  his  hour  of  need  ?  Nay, 
he  might  have  known  rescue  and  release,  his  future 
might  now  be  fair  and  free,  but  for  the  device  of  this 
man  who  had  bestirred  himself  to  thwart  the  friendly 
mob.  Was  not  his  hope  attained,  his  prayer  ?  Here 
was  a  sublimated  revenge.  His  enemy  would  die  at  his 
feet,  and  yet  his  hands  were  clean. 

And  at  this  moment  he  was  muttering,  "  I  '11  be  bound 
ef  he  hed  a  leetle  wild-cat  whiskey  now  't  would  save  his 
life  ez  respons'ble  ez  ef  't  war  ez  legal  ez  the  taxed  corn- 
juice." 

He  stood  thinking  for  a  moment.  There  was  Mar- 
vin's still  at  the  Craig  house,  as  Alethea  had  said,  two 
miles  away  ;  the  man  would  be  dead  of  exhaustion  before 
help  could  come  thence.  But  not  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
below,  on  one  of  the  divergent  ridges  of  Thunderhead, 
was  Bylor's  home.  Mink  started  with  affright.  The 
old  man  was  a  candidate  for  office.  The  certainty  of 
arrest  awaited  him  there,  whatever  his  mission.  It  was 
a  decision  swift  as  an  impulse.  It  meant  twenty  years' 
imprisonment  at  hard  labor,  and  he  realized  it  as  he 
sprang  upon  the  bare  back  of  his  horse. 

"  I  reckon  I  kin  make  a  break  an'  run,  or  tunnel  out, 
or  suthin',"  he  said,  with  his  preposterous  hopefulness ; 
"leastwise,  I  can't  leave  him  thar  ter  die  that-a-way, 
half  drownded  and  harried  ter  death  by  wolves  an' 
painters  an'  buzzards.  Ef  the  darned  critter,"  he  cried 
out,  in  a  renewal  of  despair,  "  would  hev  jes'  stood  up 
an'  been  shot  like  healthy  folks  !  " 

Mink  never  reached  his  destination. 

It  was  not  held  to  be  a  strange  nor  an  unjustifiable 
action  that  young  Bylor  was  led  to  do.  He  said  after- 
ward that  that  day,  as  he  made  his  way  home  in  the 
midst  of  the  clouds  that  begirt  the  mountain,  he  was 
affrighted  to  behold  again,  evolved  from  their  expression- 


450  IN  THE   CLOUDS. 

less  monotony,  the  equestrian  figure  of  the  mystic  herder 
that  rides  on  Thunderhead.  His  nerves  were  shaken, 
for  before  that  morning  he  had  seen  the  "  harnt,"  and  at 
close  quarters.  He  noted  the  wildly  beckoning  hand 
vague  in  the  mist ;  he  heard,  or  thought  he  heard,  a 
shrill,  insistent  hail ;  he  quickened  his  pace,  pursued  by 
the  thunderous  hoofs  of  the  spectral  steed,  riding  him 
down,  as  he  feared.  He  faced  about  in  desperate  terror 
and  fired  his  rifle. 

Then  he  knew  what  he  had  done,  for  the  rider  lurched 
from  the  horse  and  fell,  and  the  animal  dashed  past  him, 
running  at  full  speed.  It  was  Mink  Lorey  whom  he 
found  upon  the  ground,  —  strong  enough  only  to  gasp 
out  his  errand ;  and  though  Bylor  rose  instantly  to  obey 
his  behest  and  go  to  succor  Gwinnan,  Mink  was  dead 
before  he  left. 

No  great  loss,  the  country-side  said,  and  indeed  it  was 
suspected  for  a  time  that  Gwinnan's  straits  had  resulted 
from  Mink's  wanton  mischief.  When  the  facts  became 
known,  one  or  two  reflective  souls  —  recognizing  in  his 
deed  that  universal  vital  element  of  better  possibilities 
astir  within  him  insistently  militant,  enlisting  every  ster- 
ling trait  common  to  humanity  —  were  moved  to  say  that 
he  was  not  all  mink. 

No  one  in  the  mountains,  however,  fully  appreciated 
the  impulse  that  had  controlled  him  except  Alethea.  To 
her  it  served  as  a  sacred  apotheosis,  and  she  adored  his 
memory  for  what  he  might  have  been,  and  forgot  what  he 
was.  Often,  when  the  spring  bloomed,  or  the  summer  was 
flushing  with  the  wild  roses  and  the  roseate  dawns  and  the 
red  sunset-tides,  she  hearkened  to  the  mocking-bird's  sing- 
ing, thrice  —  thrice  the  mystic  strain,  and  she  was  wont  to 
go  and  search  for  her  lover  at  their  tryst  among  the  crags. 
And  when  she  would  come  back,  her  face  so  full  of  peace, 
her  eyes  softly  luminous,  her  drawling  formula,  "  Jest  been 
talkin'  with  Reuben  'mongst  the  rocks,"  pervaded  with 
tranquil  joy,  her  step-mother  and  Mrs.  Jessup  would  whis- 
per apart  and  look  askance  upon  her,  and  start  at  any  sud- 
den jar  or  sound,  as  if  it  were  instinct  with  her  spectre 
lover's  freakish  presence. 


IN  THE  CLOUDS.  451 

And  so,  patient  drudge  though  she  was,  they  listened  to 
Mrs.  Purvine's  eager  insistence  to  have  her  bide  in  the 
cove  ;  and  although  she  went  to  live  with  this  cheery  soul, 
it  was  with  tears  and  sighs  and  sadness  to  leave  the  clif ty 
gorges  that  he  haunted. 

But  she  found  the  mocking-bird  singing  there,  thrice, 
thrice  the  mystic  strain,  amongst  the  rocky  banks  of  the 
Scolacutta  River.  And  so  she  smiled  again. 

Except  for  this  delusion  she  gave  little  indication  of  the 
unsettling  of  her  mind.  She  was  placidly  happy  with  her 
aunt,  though  the  two  women  were  much  alone,  for  Jerry 
Price  presently  married  Sophy  Griff.  He  became  the 
sole  dependence  of  the  miller  and  his  grandchildren,  but  a 
measure  of  Mrs.  Purvine's  jaunty  prosperity  seemed  to 
follow  him.  Old  Griff's  little  log  cabin  took  on  a  more 
pretentious  guise,  and  there  was  a  slipshod  thrift  within. 
Jerry  lifted  the  millstones  and  rebuilt  the  mill,  and  the  whir 
began  anew  as  if  it  had  never  left  off  ;  and  the  old  miller 
sat  without  the  door,  and  listened,  and  grew  garrulous  and 
cheerful  and  dusty  with  meal  and  flour,  and  brightened 
into  some  faint  reflection  of  his  old  imperative  self.  Tad 
never  reappeared  from  the  moonshiners'  lair,  and  they 
still  successfully  elude  the  law. 

The  failure  to  secure  their  testimony  proved  no  disaster 
to  Gwinnan,  as  the  chancellor  held  that  a  duel  is  a 
matter  of  deliberate  and  formal  arrangement  between  men 
who  recognize  both  the  nature  of  the  proceeding  and  the 
law  infringed. 

Nevertheless,  Gwinnan  was  not  satisfied.  He  had 
never  regarded  the  matter  as  a  duel ;  he  had  forgotten 
even  the  circumstances.  Once  brought  forcibly  to  his 
mind,  he  dissented  from  the  decision  of  the  case,  which  he 
had  watched  more  as  if  from  the  bench  than  from  the  bar. 
He  resigned  when  reinstated. 

The  relinquishment  of  his  ambition  was  very  bitter  to 
him.  He  had  infused  into  it  much  of  the  essence  of  his 
identity  ;  it  had  amply  promised  the  end  for  which  he  had 
rejoiced  to  labor  ;  it  had  borne  a  lofty  and  isolated  exist- 
ence. And  yet,  as  he  brooded  on  his  despoiled  life,  his 


452  7^V  THE   CLOUDS. 

trained  mind,  applied  to  moral  discernment,  could  but 
perceive  at  length  that  it  had  been  sheerly  a  technical  excel- 
lence toward  which  he  had  bent  his  energies,  a  selfish  end 
he  had  held  in  view.  Without  a  high  ennobling  purpose, 
without  a  dominate  hope  to  dispense  benefit,  his  unsancti- 
fied  ambition  had  only  lured  with  a  wish  to  rise,  and  des- 
pite the  heights  to  which  it  had  attained  it  had  been  held 
to  earth  by  its  own  inherent  weight. 


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